(Untitled)
Where will you find it? That immersive quality
which sings from every clasped hand,
from every evening
when the sky fills itself with snow
of so many colors and you drown?
Around what corner, amongst what heap
of some broken refuse thought unneeded
will you search? Once there were mountains on this land.
You buried yourself under ( Read more... )
Comments 3
DAN SCHRAGER WROTE A POEM.
RUN FOR YOUR LIVES.
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S&R,
more of this morning must happen over break.
with love,
your social director
(D)
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