… I am the pause…
the sensation…
the inhalation of wanting lungs…
the nebula of eyelids before they rise…
the catch in chords as a heavy word is spoken…
the conception of a thought upturning the corners of a mouth…
I am the hum of prairie white noise building a nocturne…
an all encompassing silence…
and my silence is louder than a thousand dead oceans and an eternally moonless sky… (All work is copyrighted)
Tuesday, November 12, 2013
Autumn Morn
Soft
sod applaud Geranium
bold in face Heated
pink petals Sugared
with frost Standing
knee high Blooms
with pride No
fear born In
early winter’s desire Frozen
fate E.A. O'Connell
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