Opening the door I lean
to smell the subtle trail of spring
it is the time of violet night
of fading monochrome
when the other half of my heart
beats in echo time
slipping through the layers
of descending dark
to leave its kiss
Opening the door I lean
to smell the subtle trail of spring
it is the time of violet night
of fading monochrome
when the other half of my heart
beats in echo time
slipping through the layers
of descending dark
to leave its kiss
Poetry & Essays