Ragged Claws

I’m done with soft snow
falling onto battlefields;

all symbols that make nice
with senseless dying.

Branches of dead trees
scrape the darkened windows;

my love,
I need you desperately.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 18th, 2007 at 2:36 pm and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.