poetry critical

online poetry workshop


Her hands, crevices embedded in their skin,
touch the thorns.The maroon petals, they are dropping to the table's
cherry bark surface. They are like silk to her touch,
smooth and sliding, her leathery grasp glue on the back of sandpaper.
Evening steeps the jagged edges of pine and maple, and birch,
their angled wraith- like branches cloaked in their shiny garb.
The song sparrows congregate in the morning.
The birds, they help the earth propose to the sunrise.

9 Jan 19

(define the words in this poem)

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