Blog by Hannah Frank
No matter your age
there's still the same
number of hours in the day
The rural pearl that unfurled and curled was hurled
over the hill where my freewill
turned to clover
and I rolled
and rolled.
Pacified for now, the heart of my jewels shines Opened for now, the treasure trunk dusty genie lamps heave wishes Closed for now, the door t...