by Ethel Mortenson Davis
A moon
caught me
by
the throat
and searched
my pockets
for a soul
till love
screamed
across
the pencil lines
of trees
A Moon
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
A moon
caught me
by
the throat
and searched
my pockets
for a soul
till love
screamed
across
the pencil lines
of trees
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
fourwindowspress 
Is this a contribution to Halloween? 😉
Not really. Written as a teenager. Love Ethel
Quite à propos though, I thought. 🙂
The action is rough, as in “roughed up”; giving the piece a raw feel. I like it!
Thanks for the interesting reply. Ethel
till love screamed across the pencil lines of trees “release her, let her go she has a beautiful soul, you know” She has kept it safe and sound so search gently it will be found. ” Hugs xxxx
This brings a smile. Thanks Ethel
🙂
Written as a teenager?? Wow! Ethel, this made me catch my breath – I love it!
Thanks Betty. Ethel