Won’t Turn to Stone

My criminal act concealed
for now we roam beneath bare
branches. Follow the river down

for a radical blossoming
before another cyclone wrecked
hillside. Sneezes for no reason—

there’s never a reason
to be so coy. Forgiveness begins
at the head of the falls.

3 thoughts on “Won’t Turn to Stone

  1. Cold breath melts windstorm broken…
    The signs portrayed the wander fled moss…
    Hearts dead in the stone covered waterwash…
    She stands lurching night in her white pale eyes…
    I see the travel ahead with search and founder ablaze…
    The cold turns focus into infinite sweat…
    All along we cradle the path with distichous humbility…
    Entropy wears a disguise…….
    Really liked this one!!! Nice work Amy Nash!!!


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