Poems from Kyra Howell
Distance
The water crashing upon the shore
and the need to breathe.
Salt doesn't make good air
and neither does space.
Time
A...
In my dreams
I stand before a wall
of perfectly aged stone
That crumbles at the mere touch.
Inside lies a more perfect beauty-
The city...
The reaper is not made of cloth and bone nor is he male,but a wondrous young woman, tall and thin and pale.
My first encounter with...