Category: Poetry
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Fall – not winter, not spring, not summer -Fallwet leavescopper cold on my skinthe smell of damp earth, comfortingrain falling in drizzling sheetstoes are cold, socks soaked throughSomeone’s chimney puffs out smoke, which hangs lowand makes the rain smell like smoldering woodAir, coldrainwet leaves, copper underfootYou take my handand lead me home-rjm
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The empty house that haunts my dreamsThresholds into bare rooms that I never enterWe have lived here for agesWe have never lived here beforeI hear the echo of years down the hallThe whisper of your lips grazing my skinDid I say too much and spoil the dreamBefore it even had a chance to begin?-rjm
loose threads 