one, two, three a.m.
should probably make coffee.
why am i awake?
it's getting cold out;
the sun rests low in the sky.
no time for writing.
over the phone we
read to each other from our
youths. for now we wait.
YOU ARE READING
Melancholia
Poesíapoetry takes us to so many places, and we take poetry to so many places. here are poems about places, and sometimes the people found in them.
