QualmA Poem by Kyle DoudCommissioned by Beth Casey, a friend.
When I held your hand
'twas gray, the color of winter-spring sky and fog-dripped dew 'pon the moor. But ne'er I saw the scars bright'ning blue so I dropp'd your hand, left it where music sifts by in wistful waves.
© 2015 Kyle Doud |
Stats
75 Views
Added on May 15, 2015 Last Updated on May 15, 2015 |

Flag Writing