Still the aftermath
Trees reach tall and wide, like We-
That is All-she wrote.
Painting by George Hayter (1792-1871), 'After the Storm' c. 1833 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.
“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
The way my name sits in your mouth, at least, you want it to. The 'a' hanging an ellipses on the sound waves. The rattling of conso...
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