Utterance Poem by Aya Poetess

Sometimes they come in tides

Crushing the stones on the shore

Sometimes they lie in an abyss

Waiting to be found

Sometimes they spew their venoms

And penetrate the deepest wound

When the owls feast on their prey

Until the dew kisses the meadow

In an eyrie I coil

The vial of ink in my hand

Is eager to stain

The scroll on my desk

I wait for the words

to wake up

from their deep slumber


Copyright © aya_poetess October 2017