Rippling white-capped waves unfold –
Like sea, the sky they brave.
Treacherous white-capped tops –
Like spilled milk under sun spots
Drift to the edge of horizon –
Of terrain that is infinite
Posted in response to the challenge Climber.
Mountain View
More by Amalie@kua
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Perfection
Can it be nothing more than new life?
Bounding through marshes
And clover
And buttercup
And moss
And underneath that moss
Death
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Shattering
Will we ever stop
Forming gaps for young children to fall through,
Teetering on the edge– –swinging their legs.
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Where my Grandmother's Wisdom Dwells
My grandmother's body slowly shifts into the rock, weaving into the dead texture. Eyes faded and grey, seeing more than I will ever know, and yet nothing at all.
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