we catch the hydrangeas as they
turn. the blackberries burn with juice.
I am
in the undertow of beauty
and I am
crabbing for words;
they wash up sun-bleached on
the marsh
the harsh
hiss of the waves
grates the air
amaretto tangles
salted hair
YOU ARE READING
Fields of Asphodel
PoetryA poetry collection inspired by mythology, nature, and poetry itself. The style will be a bit different to what I wrote for Clockwork Lives, but I feel personally that it is an improvement. :)
