Good morning, midnight. I felt the pulse of your poem in my chest, lungs swelling with fear and desire, words draping around me like sirens and streetlights. Each line carried me through a fevered promenade of longing, loss, and muted poetry. “The last comma is so close to coma” – that line stayed with me, a sharp, exquisite ache.

The collab <3

Ghosteen, It's always a pleasure to read your poetry.

That’s frikin awesome ⭐

Powerfully penned, Keith. This write has layers my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

It reads like a song. I enjoy the lyrical quality and the way the rhyme and cadence propel the reader through this brutal inventory of sickness and despair. It has the perfect structure for a darkly beautiful rock ballad.

This is brilliant, dear Keith – the imagery, the use of opposites and the meaningful words! The end of September is the beginning of a new and pretty dark season. Yes it is all letting go, decay and death. But nature shows us how to die with dignity and grace. Birth and death belong to the same circle of life. Hope guides us through the valley of shadows until we reach the light again.

I love nursery rhymes. Waiting for more!

I saw two Blue haired ladies today. There is something about them that exudes strength…
I like your stanza about the cars they drive. “The first church of Buick”—
this is innovative in its metaphor and analogies.
j.

Thank you so much, Jacob. I truly do appreciate your opinions.

hello dearest Daddy I’ve known these ladies they say is Jesus is their copilot and I believe them they somehow always get home safe great write ❤️