WandaLeaBrayton
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Rare
The Echo of What Remains Collected Poems of Wanda Lea Brayton
Memory is dusty with fragrance;
seasons do not hum.
Woods are deep
with mourning.
Moonlight,
nestled in turned leaves,
wounds silence.
I bend, drift,
a wisp of smoke,
curled.
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