Thursday, January 2, 2014

The Bijou Poetry Review is currently open to submissions!
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The Tea Cup Hills

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 ...

  • What is Left
    This room was once alive with colour and chatter. Now bare, it is silent - the sea licks at piles of bags packed with our lives. We will ca...
  • The Tea Cup Hills
    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 ...
  • The First Rain of the Season
    The first rain Of the fall Crept in stealth Just at dawn In a tap On the glass What I felt On my bones Was a flow Anapest Of wet life. by Sa...