hands in the garden

a shake of the
head

dislodges dim night’s
dread

watch it flake to
floor to be
swept-

with any other
clutter

i’ve stepped
over.

Enter your comment here...

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

Email (required) (Address never made public)

Name (required)

Website

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out / Change )

You are commenting using your Facebook account. ( Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s