June 22, 2016Bioman, Flash, Poem, Poet, Poetry, The Daily Writ, Uncategorized 3 Comments FRAME OF REFERENCE/CIRCUMSTANCE I look around me at where I sit And write – it becomes me to be able to see that It all is a load of codswallop what they say about Possessions Except my One Thing You. You sit on a frame on my wall. And in a box on the table. Copyright B E Saunders 2016 Share this:TwitterFacebookPrintLinkedInEmailLike this:Like Loading...
My Frame of Reference here – my Mother has passed and now has a box for her dust, on my table. LikeLiked by 1 person Reply ↓
TOO LONELY TO MAKE SENSE - AGELESS POETRY - DADA 
My Frame of Reference here – my Mother has passed and now has a box for her dust, on my table.
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This is really sad Bruce!
Missing is the hardest pain ever!
Stay fine my friend
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You too, J, nice to hear from you – Keep smiling through it! B
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