Poems from Sylvia Davis Mar
numbness is what I feel most
when I am alone.
tears rarely streak
across the flecked cream of my shell in solitude
all the while
waves are...
this place you call home, well it’s burning you down
find a place for change, take a chance, invent hope
you’re more than what you do and...
It began when a little girl raided through her mother’s old clothing on a rainy, summer afternoon. Boxes and bins began to empty as she set...
Her alarm went off at six in the morning
She heard wedding bells in her sleep,
then the snooze went off-- a warning.
He turned on the...
A joker isn’t always funny,
A house isn’t always a home,
A father isn’t always a dad,
A bad person isn’t always an enemy.
But twelve have...