Comment on this article


  
Gray-Fading
by Pat Paulk

I feel your touch, though
your hands I’ll never see again.
I taste your lips with
our mouths decades apart.
Your words framed in Winter breath, and
love-sparked shadows on candle-lit walls,
are dreams buried in a Polaroid
gray-fading like the ghost of you. 

 


Return to:

[New] [Archives] [Join] [Contact Us] [Poetry in Motion] [Store] [Staff] [Guidelines]