A bunch of poppies bursting through concrete outside the door of my house. Published by Celia White Celia White, celiawhite at hotmail dot com Celia lives in San Francisco, and keeps a poetry weblog as well as a poetry oriented website. View all posts by Celia White
ashes upon my floor___
bad dreams cause me to say nevermore
cleared field
shy earth starts
covering up itself
voices …
may winds entering the open window
–
Summer night-
the fragrance of poppies
opens the window
too soon fading
kuzu
will i see you in the spring