The skies are miserable and grey today so I’m feeling a bit melancholy. When I put together poems I like to imagine the writer as a third person character. I build up the image of this character first before writing … Continue reading Epitaph to a Mask
Burnt-amber blossoms. Wicked white winds. Lights last lethargic lament. Starving hands, Brittle fingers, grasping claws. Reaching desperately for dawns last tears. Feeling out for memories of warmth. Recollections of a summer sapling. Solemn wild cries, darkening unfriendly skies. Whispers of … Continue reading Momento Mori
