Wednesday, June 23, 2021

Flocks of Words

In the dark, you whisper us,
All your poems from memory,
Until the day starts to break,

The wind pick up past the walls,
The window throw a shadow
Slant on the dresser mirror,

And you begin to feel brave
Enough to get out of bed.
We’ll keep circling in your head.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.