Poems from GlitterCat

Skiing the Slopes of High School
Whipping wind Brushing the top Teetering at the edge I look down.   Rolling slope Does it have an end? A padded conclusion? I am falling...
Perhaps
Perhaps the wind blows for a certain reason Maybe the gusts have a destination in mind A specific face to refresh A particular arm to brush...
Don’t you see it?
can’t you feel a story waiting to be told? can’t you hear the impossible whisper? can’t you imagine the grasses alive? don't you see it?  ...