What you’ve handed me are seeds.
What I want from you are trees:
whole groves of oranges, fruit hung
plump and bruised from bent limbs.
Better yet, hand me these same husks
dug up and cut open, oozing
with all these possibilities.
A day is not done, until it's filled with words.
March 6, 2014 at 7:06 am
Goodmorning Thom, I have a question about the poem you wrote for me via Kickstarter. Do you have an emailaddress that I can mail you privately?
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