in the days of your disappearance, the pink dogwoodblushes through my window. while the trees lean toward a whisper beyond the gleam of marbled glass, i hear yourise along the garden, suspended in the air…
Browsing Category Poetry
I Blame the Peach
I.I feel the tickle on the pink of my lips before it touches my mouth. Anticipation is only possibility. Idon’t bite. The peach sits in the fridge, the skin too perfect to puncture, if it…
Jaclyn & the Birds
Photo by David Clode on Unsplash
Elegy, One
for Wendy 1973-2019 Photo by Sirisvisual on Unsplash