Prose Poetry
A scarlet tanager sat, singing,
on my sill yesterday. He was still only a second before he stole away. Perhaps
he will settle someday and teach me to fly, so together we can soar and sway.
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
A Cloak
A prose poem.
The darkness was safe. Even the
spotlight was safe; it made the darkness darker. But when the houselights went
up, all I felt was naked.
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