Blooms in Indigo
Every day poems from a very ordinary aspiring poet
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Windows, lights
Don't hold me, perfect. I might break
like that, the broken window allows
enough light for us to see
and extra night blankets for us to sleep
Tireless from too many stones
packed under our heads.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment