by Julia Whitehouse | May 14, 2010 | Poetry
Like a stunted tree with the roots dug up You ceased to know your familiar ground; No leaves can ever bloom and shed with season; Your branches too tangled to know. The once clear estuary of love that radiated from you Has been filled with khaki green algae: You,...
by Julia Whitehouse | Apr 14, 2009 | Poetry
Picking Petals The petals vulnerable and delicate were crushed with water droplets, They were battered by the wind and the rain, interminably damaged: dead, Those petals are my son: the wind and water, the war, The constant deep despair which my mind keeps me in...
