This Shattered Scene – May, 2003

This Shattered Scene To live is like the silent, grasping breath:a plume of smoke fading into the skylike the stuttered, staggered, stunted deathof a butterfly in glass. The low sighof a moaning wind. The old empty dreamsrattle like tin-cans on faded playgrounds,old photographs shredded to ripping seams,old letters now nothing but empty soundsmouthed to an […]