poet of gothic literature & narrative poetry | Genre-Bending & Genre-Blending | Storyteller
Isn’t She lovely when She sighs in relief and Her breath twists and twirls the leaves? After they burned Her forests and left Her in grief,
By KADabout a month ago in Poets
O, to be a butterfly loafed atop a minivan– fluttering wings, happy, at ease, cooped in Nature’s hand. Nothing but the sound of locusts and Mother Nature’s friends:
𝘚𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺- 𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 J𝘶𝘭𝘺, 𝘛𝘸𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘴 𝘤𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥,
