2 Poems Written At Different Times But In the Same Place

Blue— Like the color of his eyes and Blue means nothing to me cuz it’s Cold— Like the feeling in your eyes And the lakes we used to go swimming in Late January on the Delaware - Flying over the ocean— Greyest night Watching the water churn, churn against the sky-fire burning bright. Don’t cease your reaching towards the light. It shines through gaps of the blackest night Fire, burn, your way is right.