Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2022
They hurried after me
pattering like angels’ wings
but it was of no use
asking for so much
the stars were pinned onto a blue felt sky
and the white hot moon let fall a small strip
upon which my fortune had been written gamely

I shouted again at the too-tired birds
open this garden’s gate
and let me see within!
Susan Adele Wiggins
Written by
Susan Adele Wiggins  F/Los Angeles
(F/Los Angeles)   
106
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems