the sea returns nets with knots tied by unfamiliar hands
Tag: poetry
patience of a buried king: the autumn day waits to begin
autumn at dawn the coast calls but the soul refuses
get organized they said: its hard electing a leader when the fire burns out just like that
an almanac of timelines that has yet to exist
the autumn river warms when strangers strike up a conversation
violet butterflies and other things too delicate to name
autumn hills: can you tell between the seven kinds of silence
every ounce of warmth is internalized and consumed by the waking soul
dreams: of emerald fires and smoke spiralling out from the depths of the dark earth
