American Sentence LXXXII
The train gathers salt black, its passengers weary, delicate truths slip.
6 thoughts on "American Sentence LXXXII"
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The train gathers salt black, its passengers weary, delicate truths slip.
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Oh, this one is intriguing! I am curious what those “delicate” truths are…
So cool, Pam!
Stunning. I have so enjoyed your American Sentences this month. Amazing what you do with 17 syllables. So intriguing and evocative.
I love this series. Really vivid and inspiring, Pam. I’m having a hard month and these tiny jewels are wonder-full. Thank you!
Pam, we’ll keep following these delicate truths all the way down the line! This feels like your collection’s thesis in a way to me.
This one is a favorite!
Love this enigmatic poem; timeless, yet presence abounds. Impeccable craft, movement, and musical. Thank you, Pam