My hand draws this
reflected on the dark surface
wondering about the state
of love~in this harrowing time
Does she suffer?
Is she forgotten?
Or put aside for another day
when the bounty is fresh
and she well rested
Perhaps she has vanished
like a spirit
her presence faintly felt
but unseen.
~Jenny
Our Red Cliff Moment - A Poem by M.N. Hopkins
10 hours ago
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