North wind medicine by Ann Wood
NORTH WIND MEDICINEHe sat down at the window at night
I write and laugh - my God!
I can hear the steps, the sound of a creaking door-
but I am in the email, yours currently.
I have not seen or dreamed of you,
your face, among countless faces ....
Even your voice I didn't hear,
but it sounds in every order.
And writing is a kiss, but without lips-
kiss between the two intellects.
Trivia seems to be missed -
and each topic has several aspects.
And hidden in an artificial space,
we are sharing what we have left until yesterday.
Drunk, in a non-existent drunkenness,
will we find the path tomorrow?
Poetry by Ann Wood
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Written on 2020-03-17 at 12:12
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