barredowl's Lovely Gears-Day Poem
Last summer, as the gibbous moon loomed overhead,
I ventured through the dark thicket, bearing little but a
coat and sweatpants.
At mid-night I approached a clearing, and briefly took solace
underneath the black magnolia tree,
tears drying.
You called my name, and I did not hear.
page revision: 1, last edited: 18 Aug 2020 03:34