The Hollowing

By |

Birds fly
with bones
that are hollowed.
This is the hollowing
time, the giving
over. I have
nothing left
to give you
save my marrow.
This is the hallowing
time, the season
of holy. I
can offer only
the blank page
of tomorrow.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

Gravatar
WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out /  Change )

Cancel

Connecting to %s