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  Oct 2016 Michelle
Denel Kessler
you will go your way
despite my protests
no use lamenting
what was never promised
the sun rides low the horizon
soon it will not clear the treetops
storms gather in the northern sea
needled wind to scattered seed
hoary frost on yellowed grass
dark leaves in mirrored puddles
a suspended death
crystalline and indeterminate
there is no fire hot enough
to stave off the first chill
of a careless winter
the numb hibernating sleep
soft gray melting days
the desperate wish
to regain summer
Hello my poet friends!  What a lovely surprise to wake up to this blustery morning.  Thank you for sticking with me through a crazy summer of sporadic posts - you are all wonderful.  Much love!
: )
  Oct 2016 Michelle
the hardest
part of
letting someone
you love
go is
making yourself
stay away
  Oct 2016 Michelle
Doug Potter
I was never the type
of child that obeyed
much  of anything;
not even the many
times  I was told
not to stare into
the evening sun
when I felt
  Jul 2016 Michelle
Ignatius Hosiana
the pieces fall into place
the place falls into pieces
  Jun 2016 Michelle
DaSH the Hopeful
  Hanging in the eyes

           They struggle to open
But are tightly glued shut
              I wonder then,
When the dream began and ended

          And if I was ever awake
                        *At all
  Jun 2016 Michelle

*If I were a poem
I’d ask you to fold me up
and put me in your pocket,
then at the end of the week,
toss me in the wash
with the rest of the clothes

And when you find me later,
smudged and smeared,
ripped and tattered into
little unrecognizable pieces,
don’t worry about it,
I was already like that
I have been notified that this poem was plagiarized and posted on Poetfreak by someone using the name Blurry Face. I can assure you, this is my poem.
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