Watchtower
She stands calmly at the edge of
everything
as the storm rolls in from the west.
the clouds are frost-capped breakers
concealing a darker intent.
The air is still
Waiting.
wool over her eyes
obscures the skies
but now and then
a ghostly hand
punctures the darkness
rustling the sheared strands
of Rapunzel’s hair.
A twig snaps
in the brittle breeze
the chimes signal a warning.
She listens
outside of Time
for the whisper
that will raze her to the ground
the echo of eternity
alone.
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1 comment:
Very nice poem, but it doesn't meet the word requirements. Maybe you could have the poem as an intro to a story. Or you could expand upon the poem. I like where you're going with it.
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