Posted on February 16, 2016March 5, 2016 / Poetry Clipped Birds I dreamed of unwritten words, Pairing well with fine Bordeaux, And clipped wings of fallen birds, Fingers wet with fallen woe. My chest sinks with leaden weights, Breathing is a luxury. So, a gin to soothe my fate,[....] Read More00 Tweet Share
Posted on February 16, 2016March 5, 2016 / Micropoetry The Lone Shoe A child’s dusty memory, Hidden beneath the floor boards, For nigh on a century. Oh, what tales those soles record. This was recovered beneath the floor boards of my parent’s house, as they are renovating.[....] Read More00 Tweet Share
