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This is a section where I post poems sent to me by people who have found my site and wish to display their own works. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do!
This poem is by Christopher Michael Collins
Untitled 3
It was late in the evening
cradled in the shade of my favorite tree
I must have been sleeping
but it seemed so real to me
Somehow music, maybe a bottle
whispers from the wind
silk skinned feet dance across the floor
but they don't follow my step anymore
cold echoes splash this path beneath the rain
so much farther than they seem
hazel eyes like the sun
against the sky
and it's just a man without many things
but a place to go when it rains
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