Parray Shahid

Tussle

The lull lays hither
Haughtily burgeoning
Staring into me, thus,
An unruly enough quiet
While I lean vyingly
Crimping my wrinkled fists
Incandescent; Honing scrupulously
These unripe words
So scant, so inconsequent
At their vivid first fall.

The wait's begun again
Hush! The scene stands stubborn
Tussle - the pen, lull!

Topic(s) of this poem: pen, pencil

Poem Submitted: Monday, June 5, 2017

Form: Occasional Poem


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