Audience With Thor

my eye
is caught by a photograph

flashing the reaches
a once barren sky
crowding

my ear
records a voiceless cry

whispering brilliant streaks
fine hairs all quivering on
my skin

raindrops pelting
crystal teeth glaring
teary distances bridged

my tongue
forms a quiet reply

rasping mouthfuls
incoherent drivel
spittle on my lips

my nose
wiggling at a brooding sky

effervescent lifting
moisture of the first
blanket on grass

poem by Frederick Kesner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!