It's Still Life

Various Degrees of Blur

My pencil whorls.

Gone are the edges.
The sharpness erased.

Roof  tiles
hide under moss. Stones

hide the curve of hills.

Grass  flattens
under the weight of tyres.

A shadow denies its edge.

And my fingers
push back the second hand,

as the hours spin.

for dVerse Poets “Edges and Fringe” #1 & 2 © Misky 2021 and photo by Ari Spada on Unsplash.