Month: December 2022

send us a sign when death calls you by your pronoun

morning light wraps round the pigeon

dawn the stale breath of winter

bedside the forest reaches out with a root mangled hand

the face in the bark that speaks via soft moans

wake to the supernatural softness of cold limbs

fill the dark of eyes with prewinter phantoms

strolls along the river human and pigeon seeking meaning to dreams