plane, a moon
deserted morning
worries bloom
then, running

time ticks like
spinning wheels
then, ripping

boat, a bridge
quiet hours
thoughts are ridge
then, ours

zone escapes like
torn pages
then, nothing





About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to eNigma

  1. Nice! I love the rhythm that came out of this – syncopated almost. Great job 🙂

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