When all you crave is greens!A Poem by andrew mitchell
Through the pupil
of the shaman the crow flies across clouded skies smoke billows calling to the trees that whisper fear as the spear penetrates the heart of the forest bleeding white man’s shadow covers the land the crow shrieks through the priest’s eyes watching the fire burn. © 2019 andrew mitchell |
Stats
71 Views
Added on April 26, 2019 Last Updated on April 26, 2019 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more.. |

Flag Writing