It's Still Life

Alone with Trees

Walk. I walk with my thoughts, wild. Wild
as wind, pebble-sharp. Chipped. And I think,

Repent. Repent. I drink in loneliness of air,
and wonder how I’ve come to love despair

This week’s Sunday Whirl #387 words are:
walk, knees, despair, world, love, pebbles,
wild, air, lonely, calls, trees, repenting

for Sunday Whirl #387 and dVerse, a Confessional Poem form. A note: This is not autobiographical. This is in response to a writing prompt. No one need ring for the emergency services.