Lie awake, craving the taste of lakewater and the scent of September rhubarb.
Tag Archives: prose poem
This Is
I am a burden with a mouth.
The Jam Files #4 — Point of Peril
Somebody’s fingerprints
might leave a message.
March
Your body and mind go through a transitional phase in March.
Moon Monologue
Flashes of lightning
illuminate you,
and I turn away
lest I cry.
Prose-Poem: The Placing
The green of the air.
The scent of choking desert.
Thistle Thoughts 