Will You Write For Me?
"Will you write for me?" she asked.
"Will you be there when
the silver-gloved hand of night
closes the sky?"
The chatter of magpies
never ceases as their wings
brush against the door.
Run, run to the closet of your heart,
and put on your treasure-jewels.
It's never too late to dress up.
Copyright © Orma Sullivan | Year Posted 2008
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