Dear crumb, dear lone
Seed of the tattered streets,
Your shadows faint with grief
Not the procession of suns
Dear crumb, dear harvester
Of dust, strange human reins
Expunge your path…
Will human sweat suffice?
Tag: poetry
I Promise, Poetry by Sky Boivin
I stopped by your grave yesterday.
I was just passing through.
As I got closer to the cemetery,
I pulled in and drove up the driveway.
I found the faucet with no problem.
And I found you with no problems.
I wiped off the grass clippings.
I put my fingers to my lips and
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