Wednesday, November 23, 2016

lines


by alice marston sternwall

illustration by jacqueine le mot





a leaf drifted in the air
and fell to the ground
raindrops ripped it
now it can not be found

jenny was a quiet child
born for gentle love
a bolt of lightning struck her
from the dark heavens above

harold was a dreamer
with his eyes turned to the sky
he never saw a sign there
and he always wondered why



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