Sep 22
I wished to be a priest smoking in a garden,
gazing at faded photographs of ancestors,
They’re breath like the dry sound of reeds
hollow in the wind.
Empty as raincoats hung up to dry
under a dark a private weather.
Roses leeched by rain
circling the lake like a reoccurring dream.
£
September 12 2024
gazing at faded photographs of ancestors,
They’re breath like the dry sound of reeds
hollow in the wind.
Empty as raincoats hung up to dry
under a dark a private weather.
Roses leeched by rain
circling the lake like a reoccurring dream.
£
September 12 2024
I’m beginning to wonder if it’s payola to have a poem tread. I think is low class to do such things.
I have almost fifty poems published. I didn’t come to this site to have my poem’s blown off Elliot, that’s why I left in the first place in 2021.
I’ve reached a certain skill level that shouldn’t be dismissed. A few more poems never read and I’m gone. This is a poetry site… I thought.
Buying “suns” to get a second look. How low is that!!!!!!
I have almost fifty poems published. I didn’t come to this site to have my poem’s blown off Elliot, that’s why I left in the first place in 2021.
I’ve reached a certain skill level that shouldn’t be dismissed. A few more poems never read and I’m gone. This is a poetry site… I thought.
Buying “suns” to get a second look. How low is that!!!!!!
