Why Do I Write? Poem by Sheena Blackhall
Why Do I Write?
The moon was ripe and I wanted to carry it home
My heart was wet with tears, but no cry came
I wanted my dead to rise from their funeral pyre
Tomorrow moss will cover the stone's face
The page is my speaking clock, it reaffirms me
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: writing
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4/26/2024 11:07:27 AM # 1.0.0.1119
