Remember that,
that old patio door
an ancient oak tree's silhouette
brushes over the night. Spreading
aura out & around
its limbs--like silent film.
We edit, crop,
perfect. Existence Cut & placed,
--beneath white leaves. As I close the door,
wind the reel,
and find another Sunday.
YOU ARE READING
Of Yesterday
Poetry[Completed] Of Yesterday is a poetry collection written over the last decade, and deals intimately with emotions related to loss, grief, love, recovery and renewal. The pictures used in this chapbook are my own photographs, taken and edited personal...
