Poem

I am mourning the thought of leaving this house
Like the anticipation of a death in the family,
And yet --
The things I have done to make it my own,
I could do again.
The things I have surrounded myself with to line my nest
Would come with me.
And wherever I go,
I will plant plums and roses.
There must always be plums and roses.

Post a comment in response:

From:

Anonymous This account has disabled anonymous posting.

OpenID (will be screened if not on Access List)

Dreamwidth account (will be screened if not on Access List)

If you don't have an account you can create one now.

Subject

HTML doesn't work in the subject.

Formatting type

Message