cold as snowflakes,
pile up around my heart
until there is no holding back
sun's last embers,
captured by drifting clouds,
leaves fiery islands strewn across
my every thought,
yet never can I touch
this ghost that walks the hallways of
Return to the front page of this issue:
2, No. 2 Fall & Winter, 2003.
Go to the
Poets & Authors page for the poet's
biographical sketch and email link.
These poems are Copyright © 2003 by Andrea Da