peach flesh, against flesh
aging, withered and worn
dry as a desert without a drink
your pulse beating
pitted against time
the rhyme has rhymed
again
we must change
as the seasons
teach us
Peach Foto by
BadrS
© 2010
peach flesh, against flesh
aging, withered and worn
dry as a desert without a drink
your pulse beating
pitted against time
the rhyme has rhymed
again
we must change
as the seasons
teach us
Peach Foto by
© 2010

“If there is a special Hell for writers it would be in
the forced contemplation of their own works.”
| Henry B. Rosenbush on “Like Jam On Toast… | |
| Mitch on Juicy Quote… | |
| lkthayer on T. S. Eliot | |
| Pd LieTz (@pdlietz) on T. S. Eliot | |
| lkthayer on Fruit For Thought… | |
| Mitch on Fruit For Thought… | |
| lkthayer on Fruit For Thought… | |
| bébé on “Like Jam On Toast… | |
| lkthayer on Juicy Quote | |
| Giempe on Juicy Quote |


Blog at WordPress.com. Theme: Black-LetterHead by Ulysses Ronquillo.