Thursday, 6 March 2014

Resurface

 
The ground too hard to bury their dead,
The battered men outlive the long winter,
Content, on one hand. Somehow life
Was meant to endure, to sustain the little breath
It had infused here, centuries ago,
Seemingly by an unfortunate case
Of circumstances.
 

Morning coffee

First of her coffee back home as per the ritual she prescribed – half a world away she caresses – sudden taste of her sweet, velvety lips he...