soft notes tumble and sirens wail, making the sandpaper in my throat quiver. it’s a queasy way to not say anything at all, but anticipate another sound about to fall. does breath fill emptiness or crawl into corners that would otherwise be less significant, less clean and ordered? closed fists, pressed firmly into the ground….
Month: July 2016
seasonal haiku
Lines divide skies – an
Ocean swirls above the clouds
Seagulls remind me.
