by the prick of the thorn, of the rose.
as my awareness arose,
to the deception and trick.
You reached for the stick,
my eyes did see
clearly as the nose on my face.
hastened the fall from grace.
Turning to walk away
for now, we can not share the same space
Behind me I hear the click, of the closed door
walking surefooted, ever onward to the next shore
gratefully changed evermore.
Subscribe to RSS FEED Notification