About me - John Rutt
Soldier, poet, dreamer, writer, loner, putting things back together
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RSS Feed- Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Fantasy
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WHAT THE MIST BRINGSThe air was hushed, the paths were bare, the streets were quiet and still,and townsfolk closed their shutters tight, with a glance to the cliffs past the mill,and countrymen cowered, crossing themselves, for not a man abroad would gowhen the grey mist rolled over the cliffs, filling the valley below.The ch... More..
- Creative Writing > Poetry Poetry: Death of a parent
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The day I came home you were gone.Every day from now, for all time,you will be gone.I walked into the house,the house I grew up inwith you always there.Clean and neat, not athing out of place -except that you were not in yours.You've traded one bed for another -a narrower and colder one.As cold as your cheek was,when I touche... More..
John Rutt
Lexington, Kentucky US
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