Thursday, March 08, 2018

Atlas Poetica, Number 31, January 2018

dancing solo


a birds's nest
bound with spidersilk . . .
nothing
to hold us together
after the young had flown

afterthoughts
blacker than our last
conversation . . .
the skeletal remains
of ancient forests

the stings
of a thousand wasps . . .
some betrayals
grow more venomous
with passing years

unsettled . . .
old arguments
sagging
in the cloudbursts
of my mind

leaves spin
against autumn skies . . .
I reflect
on all the times
you refused to dance



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