Scattered Ages

by Scott Thomas Outlar / December 27th, 2020

Snapshots of mood and emotion

The mouth of death
and its inevitable yawn

Plagues throughout time
our emergent rise from the muck and mud

My ancestors didn’t starve in the cold
before passing on their swagger

and neither should I
succumb to a sin not my own

nor suffer the karma
that’s been cleansed from my soul

I caught 18 falling leaves this autumn
each one blessed with a wish still to make

Every yesterday failed to dig my grave
tomorrow remains a promise of the wind

Scott Thomas Outlar is a lover of truth and enjoys researching philosophy, psychology, politics, spirituality, and any other facet of consciousness in the pursuit of reaching a higher state of vibration. He also enjoys writing rants, poems, essays, short stories, and prose-fusion screeds covering such subjects. Scott Thomas can be reached at 17numa@gmail.com. You can also watch and/or subscribe to his YouTube Channel Read other articles by Scott Thomas, or visit Scott Thomas's website.

This article was posted on Sunday, December 27th, 2020 at 8:02am and is filed under Poetry.