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...