you grass your bare feet
at the lowing of the sun
crisp the burning red
and dying golds,
soles arched against
the gathering of the cold
and eyes gone grey
for the wanting
as eventide draws
long shadows low
Tag: longing
chimaera
you grass your bare feet
at the lowing of the sun
crisp the burning red
and dying golds,
soles arched against
the gathering of the cold
and eyes gone grey
for the wanting
as eventide draws
long shadows low