Tuesday, November 11, 2014

from p.4 on Mon., Nov. 10th


  • Butterscotch flowers
    line to line red dragonfly
    shines away, green soil.

  • The leaves, rocks, fall in
    the lost pieces of the past,
    an apple tree gone.

  • The blankets wet
    with the many tears that have
    been stored away.

  • The sound of a car,
    The smell of a pizza,
    gives my life meaning.

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