Poems from Sylvia Davis Mar
The water. It crashes over perfectly glazed-over, deep grey sand gently-- striving not to crack the breathtaking surface of reflections....
Catholic school does a number on a child,
He never knows what to believe.
Dear God, that woman in the habit she rapped my fingers time and...
I write you this letter as I lay belly-down on the now very faded hammock in our backyard. The same hammock you and I would lay on for...
For better or for worse,
Lovers pass.
In sickness and in health,
Lovers pass.
The seasons seem to change with the people,
Not the other way...
You walk in the room
My hands begin to shake
You look at me
My heart pounds
I can feel it fighting to jump through my skin
You begin to...