Last updated on April 27, 2021
Unsaid i Say
a writer is
always collecting
i can’t remember
a time
when i wasn’t
taking
everything in
the tone of words
the unspoken cry
the music of rain
the movement of clouds
the lap of the sea
the horse standing
so still
the beautiful object
broken to bits
the wondering where
the stray went
and died
the roses on the coffin
in the urn
the garden
the way the light plays
with shadows
Peter Pan-like
the skin of fruit
how it changes
the second it falls
to ground
like petals
like butterflies
like little blue eggs
memories i can’t remember
to forget
on my stone
please put
i tried …
don’t try …
just be
TL