Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 Mar 2022 Prevost
Carlo C Gomez
~
A room lives in Zoria
And also the trees
At a critical distance
She seeks their shelter
An abiding solace
To wash free
To swim sea
Who can blame
The suffering of her stream
Whether it be
A time for hanging on
Or a time for passing
Let the waters come
And overtake her
Flooding her with
Safeguarding arms

~
For those suffering in Ukraine
 Mar 2022 Prevost
Mrs Timetable
Needs...

Desires...

You.
First two are fulfilled by the third
 Mar 2022 Prevost
Maddy
Just be
 Mar 2022 Prevost
Maddy
Turn off the noise
The Digital Media and Technology
Open your senses to sights and smells
Rainy day?
Just guess for it
Nature will entertain you If you let her
Just breathe
Just be

@rainbowchaser2022
they will not swim in the tidal pool
no

nor their families nor them before that

we do and the little fishes come
we do
we are a different family
feel for the beautiful moments
that pass & not recorded here
 Mar 2022 Prevost
Mrs Timetable
Diving deep into
The photograph
I see who you are
Touching the surface
With fingertips
Unable to feel
The warmth of your skin
Tracing your face
Touching your chin
Fully submerged in
The pool of your
Stare
I feel who you are
Deep in my heart
A photo is worth a thousand words, thoughts, memories
 Feb 2022 Prevost
Caroline Shank
You placed a flower in my
hand. We looked at each
other in the haze.
I gave you a long poem written
with the heat of our breaths
last bloomings.

It was in the days of our beach
that we walked through to
the last door. Time
burned where the ink
of my song, snug in the
bend, sang its last
goodbye.

"Time was, red was the color
of afternoons pressed
against us. " I wrote that to you,  
a tribute to love and to laughs,
and to syllables.

I am 75 now and read with
the cat on my lap.  She
knows the art of songs
sung in the wind,
with every sigh of her lovely
brindle colored breast.

Tomorrow she will bring
me no nearer to you
who sang, once, to me
in the

russet sand.


Caroline Shank
1.29.2022
 Feb 2022 Prevost
Caroline Shank
Soldier


He was perfect at loving me.
He knew the sweet spot.

He walked with me and
He talked with me.

That's a song.  I forget the rest
But i didn't forget him.

He appeared
like A Grace.

He took

A longtime
going away. .  

He left in the
rain.  

I am invisible now,
by your side.

Tomorrow i will write him a letter
and i will Trust.

Tomorrow i will do a lot of things.
Alone i watch him flailing in
the wheat's crease where it

spreads itself on the road.

Love is a sorrow to my
soul.   He is missed
by the flowers we planted.
His memory blossoms,
The pain of this soldier's
retreat opens every night.

Alone

I wear his medals and

rub the shine

of the

gun.



Caroline Shank
Next page