like a barber pole
the cat’s tail speaks many tongues.
none i understand.
Archives for April 2018
stormy sunshine
on a sunny day
things had never looked so bright.
storm clouds behind us.
ashen faces
time is a burning fire
in which we are consumed.
no phoenix rising.
laundering time
time is a dying man
whose children play in young skin.
hardly aware
that their clothes are wrinkling too.