When thunder woke finally, my living room windows perfectly framed its burlap anger, evangelical The corduroy couch beneath me, that lonely pilgrim, knelt amidst the wildling morning, fragile as matins On a pathway in a park called Adulthood, a woolly storm dangles acorns above the ground in which they will take root, huffs to tamp …
The field lies like a still lake, an opaque film of silver or green—water or soil, apathy or memory—obscuring the mayhem underneath A tenebrous home once floated here. Inside: chrysalis, pupa, larvae, whatever I left those costumes in closets to mold over years ago. But, then again, my home was never on the ground. …
a poem about the uncertainty of our future
A poem about appreciating living life without knowing the future.
A kyrielle about treacherous exes for YeahWrite
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A poem about listening to yourself.
we all stand on the same bridge between birth and death our braided hair pinned back with memory neither smile nor scowl in our stance \ do not deny the air \ supporting the delicate \ suspension trusses \ girders \ cement steepled above \ a thread the river does not appear dangerous from this …
A poem about escaping the city
A poem about being the right friend at the right time.