Comments about Michele Isaacs
I sit close to a broken window
The piercing cold air cuts through my ears
like a blade...
Sharp and painful
As I try to hear the surrounding sounds,
the air continues to seath through me and
I am deafend
Everything's muffled, no clarity
I dropp my cupped hands from my ears
The swirling noises become my focus
Sharp, fast and winding
In the distance a faint singing voice
intrigues me, distracting me
Forcing me to listen
His song is sweet...
Honey drops dripping from the
lips of an angel
I shut it out
Pressing my palms ...