I was thinking about old poems that I never felt got to where they could, or never satisfied me somehow, and how it is wrong to assume they never will or will never have bits used elsewhere – and that reminded me how it is also wrong of me to assume that any of my poems are finished really.
wind carried words
fall from the tree
twig scatter patterns
tongued on a breeze
(c) A. H / K. H-H (11th November 2018)
edit 13/11/18 – today I prefer:
tongued by breeze