karin collins Poems

In dark of night she hung her hat,
By candle flame and tails of rat.
With fetid breath upon the breeze,
The witching hour hers to seize.
...

Her name holds mine within it,
a whisper tucked in silent space,
like twilight's breath upon the wind,
soft as the first touch of rain's embrace.
...

The snow descends in soft, lazy spirals,
each flake a delicate promise,
whirling through the pale expanse of the sky,
blanketing the earth in a tender, silken hush.
...