the fog sat heavy
in the valley cauldron.
each intersecting limb
was the peace of a friday
morning, interrupted.

we were singing
all the songs we had heard
before as children, and we
thought of having coffee,
but we didn't.

what does it mean
to be caught under a tree
at the break of what would be
a taciturn day, but wasn't?

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vampirelake (joined over 9 years ago)
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Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0

genres

poetry

tags

poetry

Prompt

Blank Prompt

Freeform prompt. Every Friday, writers face a blank page without any prompt. They write whatever they want in six minutes or less.
Prompt suggested by Galen

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