Dearest Self,
How will this all wind out?
a question lost in thread,
like a sail pulled
and cut with familiar scissors? a pinion,
released to scatter
—the drifts of obscurity—
as yellow eyes into the shore of yesterday's me
or will fingerprints serve to talon
—as would a button
in capturing a single point
to this incredibly weird draft?
—me
YOU ARE READING
Of Yesterday
Poetry[Completed] Of Yesterday is a poetry collection written over the last decade, and deals intimately with emotions related to loss, grief, love, recovery and renewal. The pictures used in this chapbook are my own photographs, taken and edited personal...
