bare branches
the loneliness of
not
knowing
John Pappas
autumn chill
I seed my lawn
with
crows
John Pappas
after the storm—
the bright shards of the
broken
pot
John Pappas
dark matter
the secrets I keep
from myself
John Pappas
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.