Untitled

Hey! I use this new article to post a poem I wrote this summer when I was in Oxford. It has no title really!

A phoenix made of dusk.
A twilight of fire.
A green mountain
and the cold wind blowing.
A lost song.
The rests of broken instruments
abandoned in a forest.
A skull growing in a tree.
The petals of a butterfly
that in the deaf ears
of a featherless phoenix
cry to the dark sun
to come back again
at this time tomorrow.