Sunlit Gloom

The blue skies are grey,
the warm sun beams thunderclaps,
and the dust sparkling the air
is dark and freezing rain.

She hasn't smiled for a week.



This poem was published by First Time.

image: poem

88-89

arts & ego
dish dosh
© & licence

image: set Hear


Sunlit Gloom





this archive is hosted by arts & ego
© 1978-2024 dylan harris