Tag: prose
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collecting the winter self
Smoke billows from my chimney and I wonder if it feels good to be a gaseous mass of heat and carbon released into the cold winter air. I witness a pillow of snow on a tree branch receive its final snowflake releasing it to the ground below. I wonder how light it must feel. When heat…
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november met me
November met me Like an old foe Shrouded in a sticky darkness A fog encompassed being Beckoning me from former dreams Behind the greyThe smokescreen I know there is a sun to rise It doesn’t want me to see It stings my skin The sterile forceps pulling me from my warm place November,Why would you…
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dragons blood
I can hear the muffled voices through the fog beckoning mebutwho can see the owl when it coos?hidden in the cloudy matter figures find their shadowsi was all alonesitting on a silver plattersomewhere behind the greyI could name the silence holy in her presence absent of a face i was holding communionwhen the trees began…
Chloeandclover 