Imminent Descent Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Imminent Descent
As we shake, rattle and roll through the skies,
our descent is imminent.
Eyes crossing skies in pale misty excrement,
holding closely only to air currents invisible
to the eye.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
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4/24/2024 1:57:00 PM # 1.0.0.1119
