I think we are inside a flower, under a pollen of stars

Love this one, called Kauai, via the almost always worthy Poetry Daily:  We’ve come back to the site of   her conception. She calls it why and cries all night, sleepless, wild. It seems the way is always floating and the goal — to live so the ghosts we were don’t trail us and echo. I thinkContinue reading “I think we are inside a flower, under a pollen of stars”