tasseled branches
each dripping
with their own multicolored universes
a cacophony of oranges
and reds
when I was lost
between the twigs and
the thorn bushes
my flanks
grazed with wounds
still open
you took me by the hand
and led me into your meadow
YOU ARE READING
digital dance - poetry
Poetryyoure not alone in the way you scream at a god who hears but does not understand or care to learn
