Late spring Sunday brings
stranger’s fingers down my cheek
from across the sea
The author and site owner can be reached at leeundercedartrees@gmail.com.
Late spring Sunday brings
stranger’s fingers down my cheek
from across the sea
Here, today I stayed
I stayed angry
But I stayed
…
Your books are not my religion.
Your heroes are not my religion.
Your psychedelic trips are not my religion.
…
“You’re my best friend.” she repeated, for the hundredth time if for the second. “You’ve come so far in two years, but there’s still so far to go. I just wish…”
….
I remember
It’s not a shiny little pebble
It’s a dull rock
Hard and brutal
….
Spring moon hidden, dark:
Under tumultuous black waves
Thrown pebbles vanish
When you miss your best friend too much,
you may find yourself set upon by a melancholy
that drives you to push their memories aside.
…
I knew you meant your favourite
The one I gave you as a gift
The one you never sleep without now
…
Ebbing and flowing
Under the pull of the moon
And the heat of the sun
…
Waves still rise and fall
Anchors begin dissolving
I begin to drown