Between the tatters
and polished stone
torn and twisted
branches
wrap the sign;
gathering
the remnants
sweeping,
some words
sank below
the waterline;
folded
conversation whispers
marking,
marking time;
fragments
‘All the Pretty
Little Ponies’
of what
the storm has
left behind.
(previously published: August 16, 2010)
maysa-maria peterson
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