Writer in San Francisco, CA
I saw her at the
Crossroads, black dog at her heel
A torch in her hand
Another drink, a day gone
Torch burning in the darkness
I saw her at the crossroads…
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In May, the fog slips…
she claws her way out of hell…
slid into heaven…
evening sun sets soft…
Poem written in Tanka form “The waves break on shore as dark clouds gather…”