Concisely

in clock precision
words come out from the lips of a man
who just survived a broken heart
in all those silent
slow running years
like drops of water
inside the
light deprived caves
concisely shall sorrow
drip forming the calcite
and magnetite
stealing light from morning
dews
outside the eyes of
cliffs
where the sound of
fledglings still haunt
the clinging bats
sleeping their
hunger away.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!