Whispered

I passed among them, hidden from sight
Like a stranger in the night
Where I had roamed, were they aware
Locked within their gentle stare

Grains of sand passed by their feet
Passing swiftly just like sleet
One did stare the other down
While I watched, the other frowned

Then she asked in a certain tone
“Is this the place, that you call home?”
The other whispered, in her voice
I am free, not bound by choice

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| Poetry 13 | Poetry 14 | Poetry 15 |

Copyright © Darryn John Murphy