memories left

Develop. Inspire. Transform.

I walk, and watch
a time of trees
and of the silences that speaks
of mist

covered evenings
and of the memories
you left

by the gravestone
etched with the blood of
our love

a time of desperation
and of sorrow

dwelling in hearts
beating in sync with lost

with the cosmic qualities
of our lives

Photo by jplenio, Pixabay

We Are Poetry: Lessons I Didn’t Learn in a Textbook, by Kym Gordon Moore

I was elated to receive Kym Gordon Moore’s new book about a month ago, and though I’ve only read a few selected chapters thus far, I can write here that it is an amazing read. Here is an example:

I Am

“They say I am nothing

in my someone-ness

traverse into a flow

of the seen but not heard

nonexistent, divisible where liberty is not just

not considered worthy to speak,

or to…

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