Quiet Mountain Essays			Copyright ©, 2007
What's Left? by Suzanne Sunshower
I've tried reading poetry of unrhymed verse                   and teasing cactus to grow                                 in the corner deserts of my mind - joined the souls poured into whiskey glasses      - shipped in boxes    this side up                                      this face down -     heard little buds          crack on                                 crushed stems -                      saw unspoken words             peeled from pursed lips                                  litter the floor then get      licked up                                  again... What's left?
Contributor's Notes
	This poem was written years ago after a night of particular drunkeness.  .
Home    Intro    Next Poem    Submissions    Fem. Links    Women's Res.    Calendar    Cool Links    Contact    Archives