by Doreen Beyer
A small fire feeds on fruit boxes,
warming arthritic bones made cold
under forty feet of sea. Continue reading
by Doreen Beyer
A small fire feeds on fruit boxes,
warming arthritic bones made cold
under forty feet of sea. Continue reading
by Doreen Beyer
He wears the eyes of his ancestors,
small dots
the sharp points of bird bone,
black indelible eyes
enormous with the weight of knowledge. Continue reading
Filed under Poetry