I am the white curtain,
you are the light
that passes through me—
without stopping.
Month: November 2016
Bourbon and Whiskey.
Jim sits next to Maker’s Mark
and Four Roses.
I sit next to—
no one.
Dinner [a Haiku].
We sit in silence,
You poke at peas with a fork,
I know we are done.
Write Handed Poetry 