poetjude
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[untitled]
You have learned the fine art of loving the imperfect, perfect bloom in the heart of agony. As we pause at the edge of this last utter place the...
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- 350 reads
The last day at Hill Cliffe
Everything is open now, h ere in the twilight hour This is our forever moment a nd how do I speak for us now? How do I tell the world a bout the...
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- 375 reads
Trespass
The signs told me it was trespass and the adults of my childhood warned me it was dangerous and to play so close to the line could leave me mute and...
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- 768 reads
This cradle
Binding, breathing, behaviour Complication engineering child. Heart, loss, gut, control Heavy water bearing down. Until more loss Into the rivulets...
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- 543 reads
A pilgrimage of sorts
Just as you round the corner on the ascent of Mount Pleasant, the huge, concrete circle comes into view. She is crowned with barbs, crouched and...
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- 587 reads