Reefs of mushrooms in the moss Yellow cabbage butterflies Matchstick trees, flamed and fallen Black against the pale sky Glassy waters. Glassy eyes. With so much beauty and so much death, my boots smash ants, damp brown with blood, the wonder lingers on the breeze like breaths through slightly parted lips, dark the storm clouds,…
Tag: poem
His life story in my imagination. . . .
Wrinkles run through his face, riverbeds often flooded with tears. This line from when his son died, this one from years of labor, Here; it appeared on a rainy day at 15 left on the street. When his wife left for good, little creases filled in the gaps between lines, cobwebs in the space she…