Friday, June 22, 2018

Not My Words


In the summer
I stretch out on the shore
And think of you
Had I told the sea
What I felt for you,
It would have left its shores,
Its shells,
Its fish,
And followed me.

Waiting for me at work yesterday when I arrived

- bill kenny

No comments:

Fine Line Between Pot and Brothers

As a Boomer, I fall for every urban legend and internet factoid about Gen X/Gen Z/who-knows-what-this- current-crop-calls-themselves, and on...