Tuesday, June 08, 2021

newcomer

 


our day is burning,
silence like smoke

light seems machine
in interim and enters

anyway, opens the door
to our histories of hope

in arrival--we are blessed
death is certain someday 

we get to live out survival
tithing... tiny happinesses 

No comments:

crossing

in that room I have never left this body drifts away from me I've  mislaid an empty  head crowds have taken its words lines  shudder unp...