Atop my Home

The sky was then my roof,
Upon our years, stories.
I felt winds that carried
Humanities treaties…

The sky spilled into
The stairwell
And swept me down,
I passed a century
And near the bottom was found.

Black birds flew above
Shedding their iron feathers
Laying their cloth of ruble,

How their whispers spelled trouble.

With me was the sky
As heavy as the years,
And with me i thought i should
Then have it, even so, near.

6 thoughts on “Atop my Home

  1. I passed a century
    Of myself as i ran down,
    And near the bottom found
    The last years I had known.


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