Wednesday, March 31, 2010

No Escape

The eye blinks
a life ends
a life begins
A tear falls
and a flower blooms
in the dust of the desert
then withers under the
relentless sun
A hawk circles high, hunting
and the clouds move across
the sky, whispering
time is fleeting
The clock ticks
a door opens
a door closes
and the footsteps
echo on the stone floor, fading


The Mucker said...

love the great imagery, I try but cant even come close to this.

W.M. Turner said...

@The Mucker - thank you for reading! I really enjoyed your poem "The River at Sunrise." I know that feeling of "sometimes."