Being Here
napowrimo poem 17: three senses grow tired
Poetry
Poetry
napowrimo poem 17: three senses grow tired
Poetry
write a poem in which you very specifically describe something in terms of at least three of the five senses:
this day blurs a wild chaos before me
i hear stunned muting clouds, my coming sleep
i taste the sweet nectar, new dreams arching up
i give no struggle to the dark willing deep
Login/Sign up to save and share content.