This post is part of a series called 100 Days of Poetry.

A happy day with carousels
all around – 
images and painted frowns.

Candle light without romance
but snow and myself.
An emptiness I visit

the brush of lips passes
my cheek is something
of an I love you.

A log cabin where we meet 
in my dreams and
and eat cream and talk
of the whispers we’ve

Pretty life.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *