FEBRUARY
She lives in old trees
things written about her
are strange
black apples
some pomegranates
and glass colored leaves.
I want to touch moisture
her skin.
I search the orchard
but, winter does not end
exhausted
I wait for the rain
hear voices
confused with her name.
SHE MAKES ME PUT AWAY WINTER
I feel the slope of her belly
my hand wet with...
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She lives in old trees
things written about her
are strange
black apples
some pomegranates
and glass colored leaves.
I want to touch moisture
her skin.
I search the orchard
but, winter does not end
exhausted
I wait for the rain
hear voices
confused with her name.
SHE MAKES ME PUT AWAY WINTER
I feel the slope of her belly
my hand wet with...
Read More
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
vidnik:
Yes... I wrote this. These are some of the poems from the February series....
chika:
loved what you wrote!
nothing that is complete breathes
liv:
so for breathing we need to be incompleted?
thanks for u comment in my set by the way
thanks for u comment in my set by the way