Poetry

Not Made of Stone A Poetry by Connie Song The river of my dreams holds rocks that block the way, the crinkled leaves that rustle in the trees will cling to beauty for just another day, with each fleeting moment I see more clearly the silver lining of my soul. I am not coated in teflon, not made of stone, I’m as fragile as an ancient rack of bones, I’m not armored in steel, I’ll dissolve faster than the traces of honey in your tea and if you think I am the dandelion blown apart by the fickle wind, you would be so close to understanding me and my fading words of poetry. Still, even long after the bloom is gone I will be the midnight, I will break the dawn. And live each moment as long as the river bends. 💖🥰💞