Manicfestation #poem

a wide grey canvas clouds my eyes

wall of pine trees stretching high

in between, a stone sits shy

peel off moss: here he lies

rotten bouquet sprouting flies

joined by you and me and sky

flecks of blackbirds passing by

breathe out desperate, inhale wide

cold fresh air and specks of light

any ghosts present don’t seek fights

dewy cheeks, morning after smile

bus that won’t be here for a while

slowly running out of flowery why’s

we should go to sleep and rise again tonight.