Daily poem: August stanza 3

 

Voices that stir the night hush,

scatter the gathered folds of quiet

and wound with their sharp and thoughtless shards—

sleep flees to wander the dark hills

beyond my dreams.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

13 thoughts on “Daily poem: August stanza 3”

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