Cemeteries bled with dried grass, russet
and bronzed leaves, as if I kept dropping
flames the shape of my mother’s eyes
-June’s Child by Mary Stone Dockery on the Thrush website.
Found: Poetry is about sharing poetry from around web.
The internet is full of hidden gems—and other, less cliché turns of phrase. I read a lot of them. These are some of the choice poems I’ve found online, read aloud for the podcast crowd and those who don’t have time to sift for epublished gold themselves. Or, you can read along on YouTube or read the poem yourself by following the links found in every description.
New poem posted (almost) everyday.