The sun moves, across a bitter front
of steel, snow and isolation. It does little
to warm and melt the hard life of the
men, women, and children.
Thank you for reading,
-Alina
Writer in San Francisco, CA

Slid into heaven
Thanks to raven wings and bones
It is a dark room
Scattering of beads, thunder
I wake in the morn
poem written in Tanka form
The sun moves, across a bitter front
of steel, snow and isolation. It does little
to warm and melt the hard life of the
men, women, and children.
Thank you for reading,
-Alina