early morning mist, the station
shrouded in gray
as we wait for a train.
she clutches her ticket,
long black lashes speckled
with dew. we stand like ghosts,
ram-rod straight, a thousand
goodbyes left unsaid.
(mostly) short poems on life and love

early morning mist, the station
shrouded in gray
as we wait for a train.
she clutches her ticket,
long black lashes speckled
with dew. we stand like ghosts,
ram-rod straight, a thousand
goodbyes left unsaid.
writer, dreamer, lover, seeker. labels never reach the heart of any matter, but they might be a place to start...