Seas between us, and time.
I climb beneath my quilts.
You wake in a bright room.
You are not alone. I move
through dreams dense
with rage. Your children
berate me. There is no
escape. This long winter.
a poet’s notebook
Seas between us, and time.
I climb beneath my quilts.
You wake in a bright room.
You are not alone. I move
through dreams dense
with rage. Your children
berate me. There is no
escape. This long winter.
Perfectly put!
Nicely done! (dreams dense with rage)…
i agree wholly with the above…i liked the simplcity. no complications..straight forward and subtle..
thanks
-narendra
Glad you are writing again. I had a hundred Waxwings in the apple tree this week! Spring is on its way.
This packs a punch way above its size!
Your beautiful snapshot could be among the trees in our kingdom of Liqüiritia. I hope you can visit us some day.
Love,
L.
/latest comments
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