Evening Field

For M. Golliver

 

Blue disc clouds like paper mache

pasted on the twilight sky debutante,

set in my memory unable to be removed,

dried there forever.

My mind shudders and falters

just thinking of them.

 

And you,

singing the chorus of trees

with your soft laughter

that chimed from your delicate neck

and echoed

throughout the approaching years

of my life.  

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Author: circadianrefrain

Female. 26. Writer/Artist

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