in the cold darkness
the wayward man passed alone
worn slowly raw
to the core
a jagged rock in a frigid stream
end over end
will round and wear
to nothing
Scattershot poetry, prose, art, and assorted creative ammunition. A celebration of desire, language, and the revel of life through craft and frequent writing practice.
I checked my blog's numbers after my last post. My readership seemed to be exploding, but considering the volume was all from Singapore,...
No comments:
Post a Comment