In Autumn May 9, 2023 / lara / 0 Comments yellow moon becomes amber mum becomes question of bridges that go nowhere becomes smell of paper, hot out of the printer becomes something golden that was alive just yesterday but today smells newly, richly dead. First published in Door is a Jar Poetry, Stories autumnpoetry Previous post Fragment Leave a Reply Cancel replyYour email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *Comment * Name * Email * Website Notify me of follow-up comments by email. Notify me of new posts by email.
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