The rain falls and I
Drink tea and type quietly
Words spill out but do
They mean anything in the
Morning light, in the quiet hour?
Liked this poem? Try Blue Sky or Hot Earl Grey Tea.
Alina Happy Hansen
Writer in San Francisco, CA
- Persephone
She claws her way out
of hell, Cerberus howling
breeze warms frigid air
Young buds stretch for blossoming
birds fluttering in the trees