Inspired by the poem 'Fog' by Carl Sandburg.
He comes quietly, night after night,
soft four-toed footprints in the frosted grass.
He rolls over, and over, stretching
in discontent – purrs once,
twice,
and falls asleep.
Winter Rain
More by OverTheRainbow
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poster board signs/attend all the protests
the permanent marker squeaks across the page black sharpie mimic the scream rage & awareness & hands off hands off hands OFF MY BODY you call this democracy?
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last snow (again)
it's snowing,
again,
and through the endless endless white and the soft ticking of the grandfather clock
on the wall i halfheartedly wonder what the cardinal
in the bird feeder thinks of this.
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generational
My grandmother never cut flowers with scissors, raised her nonexistent eyebrows plucked beyond all veins of recognition, blinked one eye fishlike & said a knife was all she needed.
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