had i, blind to
the wiser
man..
climbed those
juicy vines,
lowered scratchy down
the throat, growing
out glass end
of my stare..
i’d be the corpse in
tree dangling,
swaying..
bones click clackin’-
night’s whisper
hushed..
++++
like wind chimes
in tangled
hair.
Grumpy Gorman
igram: https://www.instagram.com/grumpygorman/?hl=
*painting acrylic on canvas
