A Cairn
the eggs have turned to stone,
the once warm nest, now turned cold,
nothing will hatch from their solitude.
a marker laid fallow
when no love or conversation
sparks the seed of life.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
A Cairn
the eggs have turned to stone,
the once warm nest, now turned cold,
nothing will hatch from their solitude.
a marker laid fallow
when no love or conversation
sparks the seed of life.