SuttonSheridanPoets > Writing | WritersCafe.org

i cannot walk through the suburbs of solitude

'lived there until your eyes met mine'

the din of revel, high in the heavens

i bleed the rust

penetrating preachers arrive to give last rights

leaving behind the skeletons of wishes

'the breath of the wind on the bough of the tree'

'feel its shadow; losing itself on the crest of a dune, the shadow in the depth of a sea; so drowns the moisture;'