Black Fox Literary Magazine Issue #21

Page 23

This was supposed to be a happy poem By Princess Berry Golden rope, always ready to hang the birds. The beach sand, green. Can waves be dry?

The grasses creased, The branches, just bones. Write a timeline of the speckled constellations, But the sky‘s a blur.

Loneliness can walk. (Alonetogether) Lonely, you smile, And choked in the end. Name your questions: ―Is the world alone too?‖

Just Sing. Sing to photos, Just Wish, (gently), to be the high, you used to be. 23


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