not yet now

Into the couch of your grave I fly,
never questioning why to your eye.

I watch you die.

Day by day
machine play
in never-lounge cushions.
Cards against humanity.

A symbol-grinding ending to the groove of who we were.

Echoes of flies
fill time’s windows.
A volume of buzzing collides
with words set fire.

You are almost gone,
like syllables stoked to ash.

Brenda Warren 2016

278

Visit the Sunday Whirl

Advertisements

6 thoughts on “not yet now

share your thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s