Sunday, February 12, 2023

Cauldron

 Rising up from a place  

        not seen, heard or loved.

A real melting in the dark,

        in the falling rain ☔ 

                Falling.

Never seen again.

Oh no.                

                   © Karen Joyce


        

Bells

 “Bells” We were like magnets, Pulled together by one pole,  Flung apart by the other.  Somehow returning, turning  Together.  -KJM

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