How my day begins…

I still find myself among thistles

Wormwood in the vodka

Last night’s dream burning

In the grate—outside

Schoolchildren walk

Bundled against the rain

**

The sea horse’s coordinates—

Only map worth sketching

\With this chewed pencil

**

Count on me

Says the pea-stalk horse

**

Birches clouds books

Author: skuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by skuusisto