Three Days Of Walking Earth Poem by MARINA GIPPS
Three Days Of Walking Earth
Tired of yelling
the same old Christian songs
through an open window.
My arms outstretched
embracing midnight and stars.
Never wanting to come back
to this day waking three times:
rising in the night
and descending into Hell.
The night astray with an urn near my bed
waiting for me…
as balconies have railings made of bone;
And a nameless stone in a graveyard
jiggles as an unsightly tooth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/24/2024 8:32:03 PM # 1.0.0.1119
