Hooded

Hooded self describing,
huddled on cold shores,
dark horizon distant;
pebbled mind perforce.

Twinned in all displacing,
gripped by fevered hand,
bird of grief defacing;
silently we stand.

So my alter ego calls,
draws soul to her side,
lures me to water’s edge;
catch the morning tide.

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About rosross

Editor, writer, poet.
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