Appetite for Distraction – Fading.


fading away

The hurried ghosts of muddied memory

Appear, without appeal, from ink black blots.

Coalescing in their frozen trajectory

They succumb to untenable thoughts.

 

Appear, without appeal, from ink black blots

To be smeared in the jagged night air.

They succumb to untenable thoughts,

Fighting to be freed from the suspended snare.

 

To be smeared in the jagged night air

With whiskered whispering relentless flow,

Fighting to be freed from the suspended snare,

Stubborn in their refusal to slow.

 

With whiskered whispering relentless flow,

They rage, crack, tear, rail, bellow yet more

Stubborn in their refusal to slow.

No quietly waiting at the shore.

 

They rage, crack, tear, rail, bellow yet more,

One more time. The Final Treachery.

No quietly waiting at the shore.

The hurried ghosts of muddied memory.

Published by

The Sleepcoat League

Armchair anthropologist, sometime scribe, freelance philosopher, amateur artist, part-time poet, musical maven, alliteration aficionado.

One thought on “Appetite for Distraction – Fading.”

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