By Hannah Larrabee
I felt alone the same day
Anthony Shadid died
on horseback, his clenched lungs
echoed now in the broken wombs
of cities
crumbled stone
bonework and ash
it is a faraway ache like a dream
By Hannah Larrabee
I felt alone the same day
Anthony Shadid died
on horseback, his clenched lungs
echoed now in the broken wombs
of cities
crumbled stone
bonework and ash
it is a faraway ache like a dream
think of how comfortably we … Continue reading→