In from the mist of our material plain
Out far in the East lay a trail by the sea
Dotted with wells and the sounds of quails
Crusted jets of shined Earthen fits
Rubbed down from its shear as a mountain
Played out by the watery, rusted brass section
The Cliffs rise and fall on the water
And the Cliffs sit and wait on the water
Slowly lowing pours of passes,
Brooks and weathered ravines showing
Tracing inwards, out to pasture
Winds the coastline to these towers
Birds of Dover hover, soundless
Mixing air gusts line the pipings
Where Cliffs rise and fall on the water
And the Cliffs right down to the bottom
So may a beetle missing wing
Come eventually reach the sea
Gull by way or ever scaling
Geologic clock come sailing
Scoring drums the cheer of tides
Into when years are fossilized
As Cliffs rise and fall on the water
So Cliffs sit and be on the water
And all that stone bore out of time, styled
Dark and plinthed come moored day round
Ornate platters, restful gravel,
Granite or a painting gathers
Art and sky are matched as one, within
Centered over sunset blazing on
And the Cliffs rise and fall on the water
And the Cliffs soar beauty mined on the shores
from october 14, 2018
poem from the past a day #6
i was so proud of this when i wrote it.
it stunned me that i could write this.
it's not, like, emotionally injected, but it says *something* about my ability.
there's some sauce to be found in here. there was a melody for it, but it's been so long that i can't remember it anymore.
