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The Spill Drip Trap

it’s midnight on the train
the moon is sphering clouds
everything above is cold below
& so it goes
this midnight is my dream

the moon it does parade
my tempest is a globe
everything above is cold below
& so it goes
this moonlight is my storm

it’s midnight in my brain
the moon is sphering globes
everything above is down below
& so it goes
this midnight growing cold
& so it goes
this moonlight is my life

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Posted on November 9, 2017 by Josh. This entry was posted in poetry. Bookmark the permalink.
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