"Bubbling up in our own good time-- online."
Groundwaters Publishing, LLC
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Volume 3 Issue 4
Page 24
Page 24
| Sometimes I wake At the edge of the highway. I see the bird fly, High and hard, in the midnight sky. Yes, but the night is long. Rainwater covered the Stone day and night. And the rain spoke Making loud and rhythmic Sound. Once I cried out loud; But the hungry sea Swallowed my voice Under dark, weaving waters. And the year turned to Dust in my hand, Waiting for the golden eagle As in a dream. |
| Long Is The Night By Rhonda Deirdre Rauch |