Thursday, January 10, 2013
Cradle
Who does this cradle hold? Swaying back and forth
The pendulum between right and wrong,
It hides from tight embraces and rolls in blood
This time of nonsense that comes from hidden shores.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
-
Every summer he would send her letters. Evelyn was thrilled when they arrived. The anticipation of receiving them after the long winter woul...
-
He told me I would always remind him of autumn. The way the leaves turned, the line between decaying leaves and cool breezes, the way the fo... -
At night, the stairs of this old house creaks Whispering to me, sweet spirit sleeping soundly during the night. The shadow movements, the ...