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(15/04/1964 / Kerry)

Chapter thirteen

The old house had been locked up for years?
So she entered the den of a dying woman's dream
The sitting room was overcrowded with big wardrobes and oversized dressers
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Comments about this poem (Impermanence by Martina Moriarty )

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  • Thomas A Robinson (9/10/2013 7:03:00 PM)

    Very mystical, no, morbid, no, and I was thinking bankrupcy of the chapter thirteen
    A strange poem that enters the mind and won't leave. Intriguing and enticing and inviting
    all at the same.

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