Ceramic doves in powdered white,
laid with blind and peaceful eyes,
bringing a gentle sight
when longing for open skies—
placed abreast within their nest
'mongst rabbits and popping corn,
ramekins and milk jugs and kettles
surround the rest, to make their porcelain home.
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Author:
benevolentbluebabe (
Offline) - Published: June 30th, 2020 12:08
- Comment from author about the poem: Not relevant anymore, as this person and I are no longer together; but the sense of home remains. Home is a person.
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 25
Offline)
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