A Cargo of Green Hearts
~POEMS~
strange now
to think I have lived half a year in the broom swept desert of my own bed have raised myself like a solitary tulip daily have cooked alone, ate from the countertop breathed into the scoured horizons of midnight and winter twining myself around this bear of nothing touching nothing inhabiting nothing restless in this space between skin and bone marrow. strange how it has become me has draped me in its slow arctic amnesia, has kissed me long and indeliberately the kiss that slows the pulse sets one dreaming soon forgotten dreams of spring's green shadows. Comments are closed.
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Poetry LogPoems are posted here when I'm ready to share them. I often don't title my poems. The date you see above the poem may be the date it was posted here and not necessarily the date it was created. To see more, click on the Archives below. Archives
January 2020
CategoriesUnless otherwise noted, all content ©Paul-William Gagnon, Creative Commons Attribution-Non Commercial-NoDerivs license.
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