it’s been a long time now.
this season is rain, of pouring sleet,
so I pull the sheet over my chapped face.
the wind catches my iris anyway.
I long to be in another field, another home.
this plain of peonies wild and purple,
the wind blowing yellow dandelions,
so that my skin may embrace every weather.
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Author:
AG (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 31st, 2023 19:55
- Comment from author about the poem: im an injured athlete, and all i want is for this to pass. the only way out is through, but i can still want it to be over.
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
Offline)
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