To lay one's head against Earth's breast.

To lay one's head against Earth's breast.

A Poem by andrew mitchell

Well rattle my timbers
in a box of earthly collectables
six feet under.
A bag of bones lies upon your breast
the love has flown
the rib cage empty
as is the soul you caressed,
and somewhere carried - a mind
miles away in thought.
Hello Mother!

© 2020 andrew mitchell


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Added on February 19, 2020
Last Updated on February 22, 2020

Author

andrew mitchell
andrew mitchell

adelaide, Australia



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Strindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..

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