Love poem (Remove filter)
MULES
Mules
Shoulders sore, propped up over an internally burning stomach
Raw eyes anchored to keys,
Each digital page was a blanketed field surrounded by summits.
It’s no crowned jewel, although sometimes peppered by obsidian flakes,
Numbers indicating trailheads with the promise of mountains and lakes.
Following the spine upwards, eyeing the words down
Pages were the ...
Monday 30th January 2023 2:11 am
Recent Comments
Marla Joy on Lions Land.
1 hour ago
Greg Freeman on Dominoes
2 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on Combe Gibbet
2 hours ago
Ian Whiteley on Citizens
3 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on Sashaying to Byzantium
3 hours ago
M.C. Newberry on IT AIN'T ME, BABE
3 hours ago
Auracle on Festive FM
4 hours ago
Tim Higbee on Grandfather
5 hours ago
TobaniNataiella on She Says Goodbye
6 hours ago
R A Porter on Sashaying to Byzantium
9 hours ago