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Connor
Poems
Feb 2017
reading Zbigniew and we are a few weeks from Spring
In sheltered gaze
the swan of consciousness
becomes liberated by
the calm death of March
As a noble
mother fits into her own
neon curvature,
complacent fisheries sigh in
ashen tones with smoke mixed in the
puget air
I thirst for the horizonless
milk of the clouds
and to be gradually
rekindled
-my soul to
imitate the repose
of your features
Written by
Connor
27/M/Montreal
(27/M/Montreal)
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