alisonhulot:
In my beginning
alisonhulot:
Now the light falls
alisonhulot:
Houses live and die
alisonhulot:
The deep lane shuttered with branches
alisonhulot:
Dalias sleep
alisonhulot:
The pattern is new
alisonhulot:
Old stones
alisonhulot:
What was to be the value
alisonhulot:
Nobody's funeral, for there is no one to bury.
alisonhulot:
The poetry doesn't matter