old lines collected

butterfly©papa osmubal

butterfly©papa osmubal

old lines collected
reid mitchell

Small bells in the evening rain
Only wind coming at night
Watchtower fires have been burning for three months
Broken-hearted, how can I write broken-hearted poems?

To comfort the road weary, a woman with painted eyebrows–
When she’s done kicking her hair is a mess
On a white winter day one hundred flowers blossom

This butterfly is most bewildered.


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