tops of ancient trees gather timeless within the weighted breeze, they sing within a huddle hovering like flour in crispy air when buttermilk biscuit flour tosses with her love and song dancing like a last love affair you do not know her bare bones nipples sticking through thin threads no money for a bra, boys…
Category: Sparrows
Prayers in The garden – now live on spillwords Press nyc
showers of Aprilspring from Youwear my sadnessperched on His Graceprayer, blood drippingfrom His Son’s poresin the Garden of Gethsemaneangels tend His woundsladybugs play checkersdance of sparrowsand the mighty larkwhen soon the earthwill grow quiet and dark To read the rest of this poem, please go to Spillwords Press NYC, thank you and happy Easter everyone….
