rejection note
how sweet of her
to apologize
Nothing new.
Am used to it.
Stoic I call myself.
sky watch
if only my sighs could
disperse the clouds
But this time her 'sorry' pierced.
The headaches returned too.
ages
I have meandered
within
as
light
as
feather
the city rises hollow
or
is
it
the
mist
in my eyes
greying the sky
wordless
wounds
gape
feather light
Pic from Dreamstime.com
Shared with Poets and Storytellers United
