Ache Poem by Jennifer Jenkins
Ache
stumbling through
nights
of hope
waiting on the stars
I reached
for the breeze where
minstrels tease
and whisper nothings
sweet
while I made love
to impulsive winds
with prickled skin
the same
fickle pigeons
scattered
when a branch
cracked the glass
around my gin
and I slipped on
a dream
the sky belched
breathed its cold
through the holes
of your shirt
and I fell.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 6:01:39 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Wow! after wading through the swamp of so much bad poetry (in P.Hunter) was I very pleasantly surprised to read this one! Very Nice Craig S