So Gray

Editor back-issues, poetry

I did not know the lighthouse was white; it always seemed gray, like the cold empty sea to which it stood sentinel. But, once, the sun danced through the clouds and the lighthouse beamed – adagio of glow upon stone. Soon, the tide ebbed; bitter clouds closed in; things returned to gray. I am lonely, fearful of storms.by Danny Earl SimmonsHis work has appeared or is forthcoming…

This content is for Friends of Burningword 3-Day Pass, Friends of Burningword 3-Month Subscription, Friends of Burningword Annual Subscription and Basic Member members.
Log In Register