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| Open Poetry #38 |
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One |
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Dominique-Simone Senior Member
since 2005-11-12
Posts 643
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Words spoken in brief conversation tingle unsteady nerves We are one Smile crooked with grief tight and timid beckons my hands to touch you We are one The basket filled with dark clothes appears empty I wash them they bleed into white linen gray We are one House cold winter has come in without cheerful holidays you cry We are one 6 o’clock Sunday I wake packed with linens leaving you with an empty basket of black clothes We were one |
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| © Copyright 2006 Page McKay - All Rights Reserved | |||
Midnitesun
since 2001-05-18
Posts 28647Gaia |
gulp sad write |
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Dominique-Simone Senior Member
since 2005-11-12
Posts 643 |
Yes alas it is, I was sad when i wrote it at least I know I am portraying the right mood. Thanks for reading... |
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The Lady Member Rara Avis
since 2005-12-26
Posts 7634The Southwest |
"6 o’clock Sunday I wake packed with linens leaving you with an empty basket of black clothes We were one" Yes, and you portrayed it so well. |
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Dominique-Simone Senior Member
since 2005-11-12
Posts 643 |
Well Lady again you have flattered me. |
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passing shadows Member Empyrean
since 1999-08-26
Posts 45577displaced |
you are good at sad |
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Dominique-Simone Senior Member
since 2005-11-12
Posts 643 |
Thanks Passing...i guess? |
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