Francie Lynch Poems
My Poem Is My True Selfie
My poem is my true selfie,
An X-ray of the inner me,
A snap-shot of reality,
A close-up of what's really me,
Un-shopped pixels of beauty.
That field stone bridge, as bridges do,
Waits over brown waters, joing roads where
Legions marching, marched on and on.
Her waters breached the ocean, bringing back
Bottles, birds and songs.
In the morning between the columns,
The water breaks from sloping bends,
But under the evening light, when the house