It rains.
It rains stones—
Exile in the wilderness
And darkness at noon.
Scraped clean, knife
Beneath the moon.
Some walk alone
For a lifetime.
Some fall.
Some Fall
Pseudonymous Poetry
Pseudonymous Poetry
It rains.
It rains stones—
Exile in the wilderness
And darkness at noon.
Scraped clean, knife
Beneath the moon.
Some walk alone
For a lifetime.
Some fall.
