Even when Death inhabits a poem, he does not own it. He is a squatter. In fact, Death owns nothing. – Todd Moore
YOU You pretty much saved my life Swooped in Snatched me up in your arms Too young to know what I’d seen Where I’d been Like a stray dog The dregs But you didn’t care You were naive and an Continue reading You by Lark
GHOSTS I take your pain and your loneliness I hold it close Wish it could fracture into a million pieces With the pressure of my embrace But it won’t You whisper in my ear And I think about the ghosts Continue reading Ghosts by Lark
WILSON CREEK I wanna float away on your breeze And I think I will Galax, catawba, mountain laurel, poison ivy Yellow tail…ohhh sushi No yellow buck! Long branch? Keep your eyes on the prize Must’ve done a couple good things Continue reading Wilson Creek by Lark
YE OLD FRENCH BROAD Ye old french broad A snicker here A giggle there I laughed. I secretly wondered French BROAD? Really?!? If i only knew then.. Now i do She was intimidating at first sight We’re pretty close now Continue reading Ye Old French Broad by Lark