sometimesihatemycat

A gift bag caught on a bare branched tree
Old cobwebs sway, too high to reach
Ancient names on a new marquee
My mind sliced thin, holes swissed like cheese

-me

Photograph by Rachel Thompson

~ by April on November 13, 2019.

Posted in Death, Identity, Loss, Nature, Poetry
Tags: Cobweb, Divorce, Empty, Ghosts, History, Loss, Past, Poetry, Tree