Thursday, April 21, 2016

A Salve


Thinking
I turn the words over
And over in my mind
Pebble in hand
Each syllable I find
A dip in the surface
Smooth and austere
Closing a fist
I hold your words dear
And fling them across the water
Skipping, sinking
Posted by at
Labels:

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)