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timmy Member
| Joined: | Fri Jun 9th, 2006 |
| Location: | Oz, Minnesota USA |
| Posts: | 329 |
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Offline
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| Mana: |     |
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Posted: Sat Apr 26th, 2008 11:56 pm |
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the son touches his desk lamp
with a thumb
absentmindedly, again
and again, the paper in front
of him, an idea,
a moonflower, heady
the son
straightens his back
as a storm of tiny insect wings hit
the window like rain, he begins
to write about his father
yet again,
the night leaves fingerprints
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