Decisions, decisions.
Tag: poem
Terrarium
It would be nice.
Wringer
Just a little more.
Speak
and we will hear.
Spine Breaker
Winding down.
Fill
A reminder
In The Forecast
we’ve spilt ink over lightning and blood before thunder; we’ve courted the rain and danced in the wind; swept flowing falling the swelling skies all accounted for nothing to pen in the storm and its passing when all that’s left is the rain.
These (Thoughts) 2019 (2017)
A Poem Written about two periods of time two years apart.