Ara Mosby
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One Hour...and Nine YearsA Poem by Ara Mosbyahead of me - always a step, a phrase, a quick-witted-quip - my fingertips barely brush you before you are gone last night you rem.. |
SpilledA Poem by Ara Mosbyas pigment from a bottle - as wine from a carafe - the soul too can spill. contents spread like buried secrets driven out of thei.. |
After the RainA Poem by Ara MosbyTrees - leaves adorned with raindrop jewels, heaving under the weight of water, bending low toward the rich, wet dirt,they waitdefiantly for .. |