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Camping, Volume 3 (Free verse) by jessicazee
Death should be quick, a campfired moth, disappearing wings, a notable noise. Ash light, flying then dying toward the canopy of knowing trees. Above furtive flames, the space holes of meteor showers live in deep dark. The stars drip all night long, blackberry bushes whisper secret nicknames, brambles before fruit.

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xxx68.164.242.1510June 8, 2005 7:31 AM PDT
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zodiac212.118.19.19210March 18, 2005 10:05 PM PST
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edpeterson68.79.58.409March 18, 2005 7:25 AM PST



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