learning to see
again with New England eyes;
perched like a bird
on a bare branch, empty
Why is it I love my memories of milkweed?
Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:
You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out / Change )
You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )
Connecting to %s
Notify me of follow-up comments via email.
Notify me of new posts via email.
Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.
Join 264 other followers