Comments about Bruce Morse
Your Heart Will Mend
The day we brought you home
There was a storm.
The sky grew black as night, thunder shook,
Like pages in a ghostly horror book.
You and your mother slept upstairs, safe and warm.
The branches on the tree beat up and down,
Like some mad clumsy bird to leave the ground.
It’s leaves like feathers fluttered in the air,
Or gypsy curses in some long nightmare.
The world has its pain.
The world has its grief.
The dark light inside the rain.
A solitary leaf.
The moment when you feel
Not remembering what you love
Or what it ...