What is this great, Love, that takes me always coarse from howls late into the night? It wants some-- One to appear from the stars shooting, innocently, as if they had somewhere better To be than of this thicket of this hooded, red forest, Earth.
07/30/2007
Posted on 07/30/2007Copyright © 2024 Angela Cotterman
So lovely to see one of your poems as potd!