Charles Anderson Poems

I interlocked hands with death,
Her thumb glided across the back of mine
While her icy fingers kept my palm in place.
Her movement left a trail
...

This desolate place,
I can't escape,
It has trapped me.
I can't breathe,
...

Her feet splashed onto the wet pavement,
sending puddles of water up around her ankles
whilst the hem of her favorite blue and yellow dress
was tattered and becoming ever muddier,
...