Thursday, April 27, 2017

A Future

Skies born pastel pink, baby blue,
you fold a prayer into my hand--
a feather perched on the ends of days.
Posted by at
Labels: ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Featured Post

the days

the days pass quick as quick and as silly as trying to catch rabbits popping out of rabbit holes we just love watching them come and go fuzz...

Popular

  • Bus Trip by Raymond G. Falgui
    (I read this poem in the train I rode today on the way home. I liked it so much, I wanted to share it with you guys.) sticking my head ou...
  • A Profession
    I have found comfort in being the constant of being enamored by you, without wishes, without promises, or confessions, just conversati...
  • I write less now
    Sadness was my muse, I lived with her for decades she held me and cried with me in the dark, and I held her close, immortalized her in my wr...