On Writing

Poem 300 – Three Hundredth Poem

Three Hundredth Poem alone in the humble darkbefore the sun shifts her crown toward the dayit is – interruptiona guttural sighwild-flame flickeringpeace unsteady yet constantly peace-full can’t remember the first onehundreds of days ago but thefeeling of its beginning lingers herein the ink and blood flow what are they all for?poems caught in the branches… Continue reading Poem 300 – Three Hundredth Poem