Restless in Valhalla

Crumbling rock
is easy on the eyes,
the same way moss calls me
to rest my limbs

My spirit is restless;
there’s no Valhalla
I’ve yet touched
I imagine it’s a cozy grey

Rest is a trial
but I’m a success
in that I can breathe
over and over again

They want to discard me
because fixing is too hard
and there’s relative ease
in anonymous landfills

I soar when no one’s looking
but I try to kiss
every cracked rock
and mossy patch I see

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s