Rocky Ridge Poem by Nicole Arishenkoff
Rocky Ridge
Along the rocky ridge she stands,
With a long stemmed rose in he hands.
She gazes into the dark gray sea
and sobs
Why was it him not me?
A gust of wind blows in her face
and tears fall down
into the dark place
as which she calls home.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Topic(s) of this poem: dark
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8/5/2026 11:53:26 PM # rel_20260803T153344Z_4267e77
