Driftwood Faces

 

The white picket fence

You sat on for endless days

Has washed up from nowhere

 

A driftwood spinal cord

unfolds from a deflective surface

vacant of ripples, devoid of vibration

 

Neutrality tips no scales

scattering your unspoken faces

into muddied shallow waters.

 

With no depths to discover

Boldly offering emptiness

Fools gold wrapped in a muslin cloth.

 

Checking into dissolute terminals

Flying off to a honeycomb horizon

carrying effervescent cargo.

Reviews

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ah,..a very interesting poem...
i like you poetics, rachael
thanks for sharing :-)