Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 2015
The dead wash ashore
over and over
I ask for more
mercy
but there lies war
instead of a wild flower
that was somehow there before
amid the grass and stream
a wild flower
grown in my dream
Ann Beaver
Written by
Ann Beaver
342
   Jonny Angel, T and life's jump
Please log in to view and add comments on poems