Poems from Chana1642
10:30- I walk into work. Clean face, crisp shirt, eyeing the room, scanning.
I count the money once, then twice and clean the desk....
Research--
Boring, Lab-Rat, White-Coated Monotany--
No time. Hours spent, on work which makes no difference.
Hounding over beakers, and...
Hands- young and taut, thick and thin, wrinkly and not-
They're almost comical-their capabilities-
A Surgeon heals and stitches, your...
Do leaves ever question why they die?
To fall so gracefully down, wind tossing,
No direction, yearly, to their graves below.
Autumn...