What Once Was Ours

Poem

I still think of us as the proprietors of the Poe House up North
In the field surrounded by traffic circles and public park
Except our one corner with the tall grass and budding branches
A smoking fire with two rocking chairs perched upon by two cats
When the day yawned into sunset
As we stretched on the lawn
Forgetting our troubles
The clouds etched into the skies as warm baths of late-afternoon sun rained down
And caressed our skins

more by KRISTEN GREEN

photograph by Manu Schwendener

Image Curve’s Manifesto