the sieve and the sand

Leaving the wheat with the chaff. This is not your mother’s poetry.

touched by locomotion
through glades of ever-fleece
hands burning on coffee mugs

Be the first to like this post.

Filed Under: poetry

Enter your comment here...

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

Email (required) (Not published)

Name (required)

Website

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s