Tailored night,
cut to fit her throat,
is the perfect pyre
for this garden’s end.
And as the wind finally groans,
her shoulders flutter.
A shade darker
than her toes.
To tap the urn
in synch
with the wafting clouds.
By A.J. Huffman
The Tea Cup Hills steam up, the mist swirling above endless green. I walk the quiet trails forever thinking of the bodies piling up in ...
2 comments:
A.J. Huffman is a Poet and Freelance Writer in Daytona Beach, Florida. A.J. has previously published work in literary journals, in the U.K. as well as America, such as Avon Literary Intelligencer, Eastern Rainbow, Medicinal Purposes Literary Review, The Intercultural Writer's Review, Icon, Writer's Gazette, and The Penwood Review.
I've been hoping to find a site like this for a while. Here's to modern poetry!
Thanks for the work you do to assemble these. (I am at lateblue.com)
Post a Comment