By borrowed light I read about poetry
The wind tossed the trees and the rain bled down the street
The anxious thunder clapped hands
The light spread its volumes inside my four walls
Illuminating the imperfections
Disguising all but the truth
A rising cancerous doubt
Brushed off the tablecloth like bread crumbs
We told ourselves we would be better.
Writer and photographer from remote Labrador, Canada. Just another cold Labradorian chillin' in the Big Land. Can most likely be found walking my dog Grace or behind an iMac screen slowly taking over the interwebs.