
what becomes of summer
when it is the air
we dread
anticipation
as the ripples
form ice
yesterday was common
now all sound releases
energy to gas
bend near, dear
scrape the fear
leave marks of roots tangled
your reaching fingers
on high tide
stir the memories
deep inside
glass houses and yellow rooms
gleaming windows scrubbed
the paper towels
and vinegar smells, tell
antiseptic days -ahead
——
so now this…
This pertains to WP as well. This post may be an emotional reaction to the world as a social construct. I no longer welcome this intrusion. I am back to writing… reading. Simply put… if you want a personal connection with me, i welcome you to reach out. If i hear nothing, i will take that as a goodbye.
⚘
LikeLike
Lovely write. I understand and respect your feelings. Truly hope you are well.
LikeLike
Damn! Andrew… speechless. 🕊❤️
LikeLike