Therese Cannon


Biography of Therese Cannon

Pitch-perfect wordsmithing is sexy.

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Hurricane

His hands moved over warm waters
Disturbing the quiet calm of my Everydays
Swirling and churning hopes better left to slumber.
Landfall came quickly
And flooded the sleeping village of my heart
With an exquisite emptiness.
And I, grateful,
That he would cast his sea-glass eye upon me
For as long as he wished to stay,

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