This is paradise inside gnashing fangs
A beast’s open mouth gnawing
on lives and windows and a hilltop
not quite high enough to reach over the cresting wave
Bury this ghost town beneath neon omens
false beacons with a promise to the weary
that there is something living behind the glass
atop a remnant of beauty of fire
of a hand sifting through sand
to find what treasure lies forgotten
beside a river close to overflowing
—
—
Who has changed your life?
—
—
Photo by Rueben McChristian on Unsplash
Mitchel David Ring 
4 responses to “Commons”
I really like the visual of neon omens in this poem.
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My life is changed in the little moments, such as reading poems by strangers that move and inspire me. Thanks!
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Cheers to that (:
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Mahatma Gandhi 2 October 1869 – 30 January 1948
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