Member-only story

Ripple

John E Marks
Feb 13, 2021

--

scribbled on a memory
or potted like a plant:
I am bedazzled, ragged,
dazed by the sun’s romance

sunlight slants
into summer days’ sleep
dust motes gleam in the sunbeams
I keep
as primal screams seep

into splintered recollections
form into sharpened shards
while meaning schemes
to switch the scene
I try hard
to focus on what appears
or seems.

--

--

John E Marks
John E Marks

Written by John E Marks

Beauty is the only thing that time cannot harm. Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood. T. S. Eliot

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