Past
The past gives me goosebumps, to think about in detail, not to hover over the pits like a
feather, but to burrow deep down into the cracks and the creases, to unpeel the half healed
wounds and to pour salt on the cuts that are red and angry.
Copyright © Abbey Haigh | Year Posted 2010
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment