The sky sulks.
Fresh insults rumble,
shadows hide,
small drops fall,
before the clouds start shouting
curses, throwing rain.
Prompt was to write a shadorma from Amy Kay Poetry, a form I wasn’t familiar with before but quite like.
22 April 2020, Category: poetry
The sky sulks.
Fresh insults rumble,
shadows hide,
small drops fall,
before the clouds start shouting
curses, throwing rain.
Prompt was to write a shadorma from Amy Kay Poetry, a form I wasn’t familiar with before but quite like.