Day One
To dream and discern
Such threadbare bones
As these
Bare boughs
Bone-boughs, a gaol
Of brittle, needle
Bars. Undone but
For some depth -
Or nuance -
Lost or leaving
Mere an icy gulp
Deep down.
To dream and discern
Such threadbare bones
As these
Bare boughs
Bone-boughs, a gaol
Of brittle, needle
Bars. Undone but
For some depth -
Or nuance -
Lost or leaving
Mere an icy gulp
Deep down.
Day Thirty I like a poem because it's not like a painting. Because I'll confidently cradle something stainless; hold the exceptio...
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