Poems from Clairemarvet

Without        The sun               Huddle closer
Paper leaves do shake Scratching veins and tearing holes Their skin scrawled with death
Browning purple plum Flies are buzzing and biting Sipping her life down
Golden ray of light Tip-toes sparkling to the earth Turning dust to art
Unsettling isolation-- shivering sterile, exhausting. No peace, no playful ripple in the drab disappointment. I was plunged after the...