She felt the chill
alone breeze A week ago, the shades
oranges so bright in the sun.
but as she blinked from the pain,
as the pink hues,
night peaking against the murky
ground. she wondered how many
had been picked just to rot
In the winter sun.
Tag: #life
Day Three: Hands
Day three of national poetry month.
Ghosts
This poem was written in response to the prompt of Ghost. I want to play on the idea that our most intimates part of ourselves can be easily coopted.
Street of Dreams 