Sunday, June 26, 2016

Lisa Brockwell #25 Winter

Winter

High wind, big moon;
metal gates rattle
like bones.

The night sky so clear
it hurts my eyes. Something
has changed, the air is raw.

The storm is not passing this time
and no secret chamber
will shimmer with escape.



* We had a 24-hour blackout at your place & so I have fallen behind on posting, and reading your wonderful work.  My apologies and I will definitely catch up! 

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