dew seeps through the hollow earth dirt
Tag: poem
perhaps the cure is buried deep in grey matter
winter darkness unbound
sun dried creepers cling on to faith
dusk we condemn olds gods to the furnace
zen garden
nothing to see
plenty to feel
the violence and brashness of morning light
strange tunnel winds
the current mood is
seeking the truth
winter at dusk
train tail lovers whisper curses
