i often picture myself, alone in a field swaying in the wind.
Tag: Wind
View From a Parking Lot at 6 am – A Sonnet
chalky sky, rorschach trees, songbirds stirring. cruel breeze rustling through slated overgrowth, subdued ‘neath viscous weight. raindrops spurring sediment’ry displacement, bound by oath. a lone squirrel bounds from limb to limb, bending weathered branches silhouetted against the blue hour. sullen, overcast, fending off the heat of blooming hours, incensed. puddles like rippling continents flowing into…
Crying With the Wind
i sat by the window and it was cold that night but i let the air in anyway billowing past ruffling my blackout shade thudding with a rumbling rippling until at last settling once more on the chipping egg white of the pitted frame – it made me uncomfortable but i found comfort in that…
Piecework Prose 