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Emilia B
Poems
Aug 2022
Blueberry picking
I still loved you,
But stopped hoping.
Raindrops racing down the windows,
Condensed.
Igniting candles,
Wax dripping onto the sill.
Light growing dim.
Reminiscing,
Blueberry picking
Fresh smell of pine.
Purple fingers,
I saw you.
But you did not see me.
You never saw me.
Written by
Emilia B
21/F/Durham
(21/F/Durham)
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Mike Adam
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The Sick Red Carnation
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