Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose
Where I can feel at home…
The whispers that never end, quiet whispers in the wind, heavy in circumstance an light on dividends, powerful words hissed just because the winter’s breath felt it right, due course, of course, travel afternoon into the depth of night. [...]
In the darkness, I hear a groan. A guttural cry then, of sorts, rises from the gloom. Startled, I jump, not knowing which way to reach or turn, how to, can I even assist? From the past, when will I learn? [...]
The translucence of an eye is insidious, it narrows its eyelid to a sliver of pupil to see, a glint of curiosity but little remorse to view, what could this vision present to someone like you and I? Us, or even just you? Barbaric tones, the slashes, the slights, the light burrows into my [...]
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