Mitchel David Ring

Thoughts, Stories, The Poem

Honey Drunk

Honey drunk on the way this city moves

lost in the morning crowd I wander

trying to find my way home

to the place I know as refuge from the sun

where around me rises a graveyard of iron souls

reaching to a sky that smiles down indifference

‘We are here’ alive in our afterlife

so say the lost ones who beat their fists against the sky

as they walk among the tombstones

and dream of a wheat field that might be planted here

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What music have you been listening to lately?

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Photo by Guillaume Bleyer on Unsplash

Mitchel David Ring

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7 responses to “Honey Drunk”

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