Folded up and placed away. The note began to fade as the years went by. Moving from book to book, placed higher and higher on the shelf until it made it’s way to the attic. Now dead and gone, relatives search for valuables and vital documents. Rustling in the dark, the note waits to be…
Month: September 2017
Rain Falling [Poem #75]
Rain falling, time passes on.
Free Hand Poem [#74]
Page by page, how it bends and folds…
Free Hand [poem #73]
The wind whispers across the night…
Free Hand [poem #72]
Moments that bleed out.