Heat

as it is

akimbo by water

the drowned, orange-skinned,

greasy, fail to wave

as I ride on my

dead son`s bike over

gravel and charcoal,

the shouts of children

brakes me to search ;

but all eyes are empty.

Reviews

[Penlady]

Your writing conveys so much,so beautifully!

[Penlady]

...but all eyes are empty. Period, final...still never believing...I just lost my daughter last year and I too, hear her voice and it makes me brake, always will...