Spades And Granite Poem by Alyssa Rieper
Spades And Granite
The tips of your fingers on the back of my head
They run so free, weaving each thread
Crocheting a blanket in the soul of my hair
Aiding the eyes of a blind man's stare
The beauty inside is never felt
With calloused hands, the cards are dealt
Beneath the birch I siphon the spades
As my name on the granite chooses to fade
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4/23/2024 9:20:52 PM # 1.0.0.1119
