Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Mar 2023
An old name is sighed
from the knotted cherry sky
and goes misheard.

A game, a plot, a house fly
span the attenuating divide
between what's been learned.

Whisper thy name,
perhaps once again,
and I'll pay attention this time.
Justin S Wampler
Written by
Justin S Wampler  30/M
(30/M)   
87
     Adaley June and G Alan Johnson
Please log in to view and add comments on poems