wanders the zen garden in the rain ghost with an axe culling the earthworms
Tag: literature
call it a feeling the movement of clouds in our bones
the rain haunts us every waking moment
send us a sign when death calls you by your pronoun
morning light wraps round the pigeon
dawn the stale breath of winter
winds shape the breadcrumb trail solstice
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
elancharan gunasekaran 