short short
I am searching for old, short poems --
only one so far ... (not for Em)
Cold
Old
I wanted a glowing ember,
pulsing, vibrant.
You only wanted a chunk
of icy crystal stone
Cold
Cold
The Dead Poets Society met in a cave to read and share verse. This group is for poets who are very much alive, who have words running, pulsating through their veins. From an outside landscape that can be harsh and barren, we come together in this nurturing, verdant oasis; fellow wanderers, wonderers, sharing our words.
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