The Recurring Dream | A Poem
by L.M. Browning, from a working collection
In a land beyond the pervading dark,
in a state beyond the fever-pitch,
in a dialog beyond the finding of blame,
I’m hoping to find you
and build a home where we can
live the life we deserve.
Recent Poetry Posts
I hear the voice of god in the hum of the neon sign at the rest stop, where the caravan of displaced desperadoes and expats post-up for the bottomless cup of coffee….
Be gentle long night, I don’t belong here. Thrown to the wolves, I shifted nocturnal.
Out beyond the murkiness left by anger-tinted arguments, remember what you know in your heart and bring that truth close.