Leila L. Dechochran
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In This Webb
In Children memories fluttering outside the glass is blood
by beating weapons. Life can hurt, questioning what we want to be.
Put forbidden swirling as we grasp at what we could be.
When darkness falls, night sky is blustering I fear, for my dreams
Tears nibble from the cheeks, I watch thinking the moon is a fossil
Protection of halloed angels run like curved wings, for a cutting two
edged sword, left me to the sound of the wind.
In the midst of rock sand elongated sweeping brushed in sharp thorny
desert, linked by colors in this abandoned ...