A blue black night starlight on the eastern edge she cannot see
pine needles sticky sharp marking passing cheeks
a call in the darkness one to another...
she runs
1 comment:
Anonymous
said...
Alternating days of poetic bytes, A busy wife, mother, writer, publisher, educator enters her musings. My dormant desire for poetry awakens. What happened to the dance?
1 comment:
Alternating days of poetic bytes,
A busy wife, mother, writer, publisher, educator enters her musings.
My dormant desire for poetry awakens.
What happened to the dance?
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