Grief, inherently mine,
Reaches into my mind’s
Eye, as color-leached
Yearning fades to greys.
Softened, muted, faded me,
Collated from a series of… 12 more words
Tags » Acrostic Poem
On the bank, where the river shines,
Winds whisper softly through stoic pines,
Embers of soul slowly come to life,
Nestled in sounds of a magic bass.
“I smell the burning”