Archives :: Julie Platt
Older
Appeared in the Spring 2004 issue.
No night mud on my feet.
I'm no longer greedy for my
fair share of summer, autumn,
any arrangement of rain. I'm cold
all the time.
Names fall away as expected,
but sometimes even the faces go.
I watch films in the evening,
never looking out of the window.
Now, I petition uncomplicated gods,
haltingly. Turning off the record player,
still afraid of the dark. Someone's head
is always about to be found.
View bio information and additional poems published in Half Drunk Muse on the author's main archive page.
Copyright 1999-2012 Julie Platt.