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Beneath my willow weeping
Poems
Jun 2016
esper enhiem
Creak..
creak...
Gently lilting dust
Drifting
from the rock of an old chair
Aged and lined with wear
the smell is dry
it smells of memory
Of dreams
And death
reminded in that
creak..
Creak...
#life
#pain
#death
#loss
#dreams
#beauty
#sorrow
Written by
Beneath my willow weeping
Az
(Az)
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jane taylor
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Tommi Petteri Yli-Ollila
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