oddballmagazine.com
Poem by Su Red
Seasonal he leaves like autumn leaves like red a last trace of my lips upon his cheek now covered by stubble a thick overgrown lawn which hides blossoming new life waiting to spring forth leaves like orange flames devour shreds of white words mean nothing now what matters is the black soles that get smaller and smaller in the distance autumn swallows the sticky sweetness of summer spits sleet and hail on the one who nurtured it if
Oddball Magazine