Sweet Dreams

emptied into my bed

a field of hands

only yours

are marked

with trees


Intuition

the endless season of
too late
has begun

the penultimate parasol
swirling
burned coffee & campfire smell

someone broke the pot

it sounds like snow
rubbed together as
the footing slips
on loose hornfels
and she drops the bone-cup
the bandanna
to pick up
a soft roaring


 

Tasha Klein's poetry has appeared in numerous ezines, some favorites
include, Gumball Poetry, Triplopia, Tryst, Unlikely Stories, Snakeskin Poetry Webzine, Stirring, Locust, and From East to West. She resides in Dekalb, Il. with a fat cat named, Baby.

 

 

Copyright © 2006 Tasha Klein