Born of wood, I became paper
steel keys imprinting ink upon my skin
signed with ink, and read for a while
folded over once, enveloped, posted
I come with no expectations
The reader was wise and opened my folds
Briefly, my words capture his gaze
Binned with used paper, I am no more: PULP
Tag: wood
Rain drops on Wood
raindrops fall slowly
droplets splash onto the wood
sorrow seems fleeting
touching the wood that is you
tactile grief in letting go
C & K 