sober poem

In The Wrong Arms

The lamplight dimly spread to the corners of the room, where shadows hide and appear in our faces and cover our bodies. I only took quick glances at his face, I do not think I looked into his eyes, not knowing if they were blue, brown, or green. Read More

song for october

Song for October

The morning dew on the grass soothes my tired feet The red, pinkish horizon of the rising sun soaks me with warmth, A breeze not too cold brushes my skin, and a songbird gives a tweet. Behind me is the past I know too well, grinning with a look lacking mirth. In the distance is the future, but I know not the looks, for we have yet to meet. Read More