Monday, September 9, 2013

...and the blanks

..and you traveled wide along
the shy stream; memories 
end. 

...and they all had memories; 
the ones who never returned. 

...and the time; empty-
paper plates, a cup of 
coffee

...and the tired muse; a 
broken pen. 

The house of solitude. 

No comments:

Post a Comment