Pulp

lies perch on the coffee-table
things smell of petrichor

your fork seems sharp and sanguinary
truth be told truths shall be buried tonight
in the garth behind your kitchen

 

(174 Characters incl spaces)

#Micropoetry

found

fallen feather found
as I looked down in sorrow
lifts my heart skyward

(70 Characters incl spaces)

#Micropoetry