Monday, May 9, 2005THE DOORMy brother’s death Was like a door in passing Slightly ajar, old air rushing through Calling with mystery So that you lingered Hesitating between the cracks Fear racing, heart pounding As your eyes pull closer Taking in the scanty light Of dust billowing Glittering particles swirling The smell... Sign in to see full entry.posted by MiaElla at 8:22 AM Comments (3) (permalink) |
