Spring Poems

I don’t know what it means to write poetry, but I pretend that I do sometimes. Especially when I’m riding my bike, or stuck in commuter traffic. I run the lines over in my head, and jot them down on my phone afterwards. And maybe they’re too angsty and maybe they’re immature, but maybe that’s okay too. I hope you enjoy the brief break from my normal fiction.

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I Saw A Hawk

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedI saw a great hawkon the edge of the subur...