Mystery Thing Poem by eli brower

Mystery Thing

Rating: ★5.0


He watched them turn and tumble
Everything slipped from his grasp

Cold
Bone chilling cold

Then warmth came
and birds sang
The dead rot to feed the growing
and so the cycle repeats
and he grew anew

eli brower
Wednesday, October 15, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: tree
poem poems cold
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