Note: No profile exists for this entry - most likely it was deleted.

from Bone Tales

 

The dark had gone from the night

 

it was a sky bright as hailstones

grinding together. The food he ate

was grey, water black, his shadow

stood away from him at every angle.

 

He ate and ate to find something with colour

like taste had.

                         Then vomited darkness.

 

He ran and ran away from that place –

the empty sky inside him -

the thoughts that lit up just darkness –

he ran and ran from them.

Comments

<Deleted User>

Tue 29th Jan 2008 21:16

Interestingly spot-on there, Zuzanna.

I had not realised it myself: I have been reading a lot of modern Icelandic and Swedish poets - and I guess the scary Arctic cold has left its mark.
How astute you are!

Profile image

clarissa mckone

Sat 26th Jan 2008 17:03

Hi ricardo, this is nice.

Profile image

Zuzanna Musial

Sat 26th Jan 2008 01:30

Ricardo,
It reminds of those long days on the Polar Circle where there in no darkness just day light there is a lot of imagination as well. The picture I draw from your write it is scary. Loved the mystery, the unknown…Great read!

Thank you...Zuzanna

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message