Poetry (Micropoetry #21)



Some necessarily choose

a darker sky and shoot up

to shine and twinkle

for the star catchers

to be beyond me-

I let them go with a sigh-

a few stay to let me collect

molten words of their hearth-

I feel their street urchin breath-

hear their buzz for a new bloom-

see their muddy feet-

on the other side of rhythm-

I make my home corner

with their stale wrath of desperation






Posted for Micropoetry Month: Nov 2017 # 21 hosted by Thotpurge


Shared with Poetry Pantry #388 @ Poets United