A POEM A DAY 212
ELEGY FOR THE BREATHING HORSE Beneath the pallid winter boughsWhere daylight wanes and shivers thin,A sable horse, with lowered brows,Stands cloaked in fog and breath and sin.Its nostrils bloom with ghostly fire,A vapor born of hidden heat,As though the soul, grown cold and tired,Still whispered live through lungs and beat.The leather creaks. The iron waits.The…
Snow Bunnies
It’s thirty-five degrees in this small North Florida town, the kind of cold that feels borrowed, like it won’t stay long enough to learn my name. Then they arrive— not snowflakes exactly. Reminding me of dust bunnies as they drifting loose from the sky, soft, unsure, floating past my face before vanishing into nothing. I…
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My Life In Word 