10-22-2025, 07:15 AM
I think about the spaces between words,
the way they stretch like miles of road
no one drives anymore.
Even the air has forgotten
how to breathe.
If not for my children,
I might have stopped
let the years wash memory clean
like the smoothness of stone
under tireless waters.
the way they stretch like miles of road
no one drives anymore.
Even the air has forgotten
how to breathe.
If not for my children,
I might have stopped
let the years wash memory clean
like the smoothness of stone
under tireless waters.
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson