No one comes.  House lights burnin the empty street, white oaksshudder in all these silent yards.She stands in October moonlight,leaves swirling at her feet, opensher eyes to another gravity’smagic pull. How strange to feelthat pale yellow bath on her cheeksand painted smile.  She drinksthe darkness as an owl floatsby, its alien face round as anothermoon…

This content is for Basic Member, Friends of Burningword 3-Day Pass, Friends of Burningword 3-Month Subscription, and Friends of Burningword Annual Subscription members.
Log In Register
Listed at Duotrope
Listed with Poets & Writers
CLMP Member
List with Art Deadline
Follow us on MagCloud
%d bloggers like this: