Widowmakers
A poem
look over the river where mudcuddled pups call trees that fell embolden the chalice-gold sun mincing through the pines receding far away; ash hollow bark to be martyrs listen to myriad of soles soiled in the earth nail them
look over the river where mudcuddled pups call trees that fell embolden the chalice-gold sun mincing through the pines receding far away; ash hollow bark to be martyrs listen to myriad of soles soiled in the earth nail them
Exquisite prose, Joseph. You piqued my interest with the photo!
Compare this poem to the shit you wrote like a year or two ago. I told you that you’d be really good if you applied yourself. And here you are now. Good job.