The ReOccurring Kind
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Brew
Older now, and stirring I do
The chances curdling in the thickness
The days lining a shallow coat along the walls
And memory,
What trace is left sunk for the last sip.
All I beg,
bottoms up.
1 comment:
Anonymous
January 29, 2010 at 5:59 PM
Is it me, but this made me think of an inkpot ...
the last two lines, wow.
Beautiful lines.
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Cora Jeanne
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Brew
Respect to a recent poem that I loved:
Starting Over #6
read write prompt #109
Starting Over #5
Starting Over #4
Starting Over #3
Starting Over #2
Starting Over #1
Is it me, but this made me think of an inkpot ...
ReplyDeletethe last two lines, wow.
Beautiful lines.