| Author | Message | ||
| M
Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 3824 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Alien Lauriette (Laurie Byro) If winter is a lie Summer is a transgression Crickets drop quietly into the rage of grass I miss the few stars I used to count on to sing me to sleep After you packed up, humming slammed your suitcase shut and left The front door is lightly ajar I sweep out snow, a leaf, discourage the old raccoon from coming in Curious, he wanders the house from time to time foraging rooms for remnants of conversation Sometimes he stops with his head cocked ready to pounce a strain of Proust or some other long-winded dialogue on love |
