Sounds titrate.
Dark night beckons
mind-worms
as owls call.
She stands, holding
the vertical cot rails,
breathing stuttering
with terror…
Insanity stirs inside
this cell….
No one comes.
BubblingWordClouds
Flick's Poetry & Thoughtfield: “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I'll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about.” Rumi
BubblingWordClouds 