Monday, January 23, 2006
Dread
When fear is buried
it germinates and
what snakes out of fertile soil
to smother all you ever knew are
heavily entangled vines of dread.
Everything withers away under a kudzu cloak,
dies beneath the weight of its ever growing shade.
Even the things you love.
congenital heart defect,
poetry
posted by Erin @
5:05 PM