Inherent Memories


A memory of the majesty, might and moors,

The tumbled boulders, tipped and torn,

Space in silence stands and soars,

Across these peaks so withered and worn.


I see,

A sea that used to be,

Cold water, ice and floating debris,

Their mark laid bare,

A difference in the air,

From the canyons of a cityscape,

No longer in need of desperate escape.


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