Broken Thoughts


Light, space,

Cold hands, cold face.

Shadows moving,

Constant and unnerving.

By our hand,

Built on salt, sea and land.

Stop be still.

Do they have the will.

Another day.

Can there be a way.



Leave a Reply

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

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

Facebook photo

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

Connecting to %s