| Author | Message | ||
| M
Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4439 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Sierra Sleep Gray Squirrel The granite stones To the stream below Rushing incognito Where the trees Steal the sun. The sun, flickering Golden on the edges Leaf to leaf... Melted, falling. A sigh to you, My purpose, my lost, A deep inhale. I am the cracks Beneath my own feet, A spectre of Your lips, your walk... I am a severed limb Fallen to the Rippling water, Caught in a narrow, Pressed harder... I am the the silt And the sand Swirled and spun, Paint on the sheets Beneath a clear Wrinkled blanket. |
