In early light,
as trees move slow,
we sit tight.
Tag: micropoetry
Surreal
So surreal, yet the flowers don’t have spoons for hands.
Love Margin
we move
close to
the margin;
our love is wild.
Emotion
moving emotion;
make room for those lies you tell yourself.
Petals Fall
A below Place
My Kryptonite
Oh, cake!
You are my kryptonite;
weakening my steady resolve.
In Dreams
While you slept
in dreams,
I longed for your touch.
Hunting
curious and cute
he’s hiding something
she’s a detective
hunting
Fever Dance
dance floor
fever burning the timber
floor perspiring fire vigorously