Poem: No New Day

The days return 
familiar moments
eyelashes point at paper
no words can dance on
flower faces open
look inside the window
fingers weave the story of us
a braided rug used to 
cover the blemish
On my shoulder you perch
squawk as a chore, 
as a word to cross off
Your kiss is a temporary tattoo
placed onto my flesh with spit

***

Published by

Shannon Laws

Shannon P. Laws lives in the Pacific Northwest. She is a published poet, currently working on a series of short stories. For seven years she produced award-winning community radio programs that promoted the PNW music/art community. Shannon's other interest include operating her voice-over company, Chickadee Productions.

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