A poem a week for a year. |
| Objects in the Mirror... Invite me on a stroll through the tangled byways of my exile, and my feet will find a much travelled highway, the road to memory and nostalgia, my neighbourhood for years. My past is addicted to this cure for the future. Line Count: 10 Free Verse For Promptly Poetry, Week 29 Prompt: Use these three words in your poem: stroll, exile, addicted |