When I die, I want to decompose in a barrel of porter and have it served in all the pubs in Dublin.
Pages
"home"
Friday, October 15, 2010
autumn.
there's nothing like cold october rain
hitting bare skin,
glistening.
it gets colder as the day fades,
the full moon shines
through the fog and
the air is bracing.
she tip toes through
falling leaves,
wet,
and wonders
why.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment