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Mar 2017
the grass is greening
and voices begin to rise
i wander further
the distance between the tall oaks
and my bare feet
merely a few steps

the front door
not always left ajar
often thrown off its hinges
anger an anvil of weight
a battering ram

tightened
the moon rises and night falls
withering cries
cardinals fly west
and venus readies herself
for a second showing

an exchange
invaluable its rate
but just the same
someone's coming
or going
Stefania S
Written by
Stefania S
  823
       Nylee, ---, JG O'Connor, ---, ryn and 10 others
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