Train Track Hummingbird

Photo by Alejandro Quintanar on Pexels

He walks alone in the mist.

No guns,

Just a knife,

One that is pocketed -

Easier than sheathed.

He loves the cold,

The damp,

And the brown leaves

That rattle

Just like his breaths

In his empty

Hollow

Skeletal chest.

He will end up in a grave…

Eventually…

But tormented spirits

Are doomed

To a much more

Compromising

Fate.

--

--

--

A poet that loves to express herself through pretty words and the occasional spooky tale 🌲☁️

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Erika Fischer-Laine

Erika Fischer-Laine

A poet that loves to express herself through pretty words and the occasional spooky tale 🌲☁️

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