the wind licks the sticky salt in her hair whipping it against her coat collar when she tips her head carefully she mounts the steps that lead to the stage in the empty ampitheatre doing her best to gauge their relative distance minus the assistance of the cloud-captured moon keep going he whispers knowing that fear is slowly sewing itself into the tension in her gut what? (she didn't hear) you're there she stares ahead barely able to make sense of all that's spread in front of her: seats headless in the darkness a mess of backless wire benches painted white but barely gray in the absence of light then he says go amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me I once was lost but now I'm found was blind but now I see
Reason for writing:
<font size=4>FEEDBACK, PLEASE.<font size=3> Strengths and/or weaknesses. This poem is very important.
Birth sign: Virgo
You need to log in to edit this poem if it is yours.
View more poems by Who? (an alias).