| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
| ||||||||||
|
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Not Rated |
| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Writing >> ID #1151034 |
| |||||||||||||
|
My Compass
lies broken on the floor like a wine glass shattered tossed into the fireplace as if in celebration of something I cannot comprehend the cold needle is stuck due west north west not magnetic north where I want to explore the wilderness Jeffrey Spahr-Summers
© Copyright 2006 zzbaggins (UN: zzbaggins at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
zzbaggins has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |