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Jul 2018
The dappled light hits my face
As lay in bed
My head on the pillow
Causing my cheek to push up into my eye

       And create wrinkles there.

An adolescent robin used to hop
On the fence
That I gaze upon
He’s been absent, I wonder what has become of him

       And now, about him, I worry.

However, the shade tree will die, as will the robin, as will I.
Written by
Woman  38/F/Washington
(38/F/Washington)   
  213
     emnabee and Fawn
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