Poem: 01April

(For National Poetry Month I am writing a stream-of-conscious poem per day. Each poem is  a spontaneous poem single edit – could get messy!  Here is Poem #1.)

I am alone
as always
hidden wounds
bleeding words
horribly unrhymed
jumbled heaps and lines
spilling ancient laundry
beneath the broken chair
for the yellow dog to wear

Ah yes right there…

weary I stumble
and ascend
as always
knowing full
this is unread
even still I hope
crawling to my bed
to dream you still care
crumpled white satin sheets
stained with the memory of you

What is that scent…

5 thoughts on “Poem: 01April

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