Poetry. By me. Many of the poems are dark in nature, but not all. Enjoy.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Breath
That peace, that
Moment of Monet in madness,
Silence but for wind and
Wave and shimmering grass:
That echo of a
Second spent in solace
Filters through a dusty pane
And paints in sepia tone
A place to hide.
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