tiny poems
by scott hess
Thursday, March 24, 2011
OUTSTRETCHED
when i write you
i want you
to hear all the hoping
energy in between words.
i am teasing
death, a trapeze
artist without a net, hell-
bent on flying
to meet outstretched hands
or sudden death.
1 comment:
The Wife Who Knows
said...
Brilliant.
April 14, 2011 at 9:23 PM
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1 comment:
Brilliant.
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