I see a knotted redwood door
through this keyhole
blue eyes-always fixed on the new, lush curtains. Mind's vested—like your dollars on their implication.
Seek mine
—I wish as I watch the shadows grow outside.
The parking lot's empty
and the trees are gone. I think,
They're branches & roots & dust
Perhaps, they've always been that way,
the whole lot, too.
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...
