pain (Remove filter)
A fall in the Morning
The razor cold breeze whipped at the small child.
For the tall pines grew below the cliff—no help--
And offered their apologies in their own way,
Filling the air with their sharp centric scent
And swaying like an ocean of green in the wind.
But, that day, the boy could not tell trees from tears,
And he could not smell aught but what he tasted:
Just copper and sa...
Wednesday 21st January 2015 7:06 am
Recent Comments
Bethany Sallis on SPIKE-LIKE
6 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Grey daze
6 hours ago
Nigel Astell on Happy Hours for the Edgeley Faithful Extended
7 hours ago
Steve White on A Life in the Day
10 hours ago
Steve White on Rwanda Bound
10 hours ago
John Coopey on SWINGING
10 hours ago
Greg Freeman on A Life in the Day
10 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Still Life with Massacre
11 hours ago
Telboy on A Life in the Day
12 hours ago
Tom Doolan on SWINGING
12 hours ago