The stuff that comes out a bird's mouth.

Poem 20160420b

one cricket singing
lonely in the sun-baked yard
only mate–cold moon

——

Like Loading...

Published by crow

I'm a writer and a dabbler. I live in Washington. View all posts by crow

Poet Rummager April 20, 201610:52 pm

Poor cricket; pining for a mate he’ll never reach 😦

Comments are closed.

Send to Email Address Your Name Your Email Address

Cancel

Post was not sent - check your email addresses!

Email check failed, please try again

Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by email.

%d bloggers like this: