(The raging storm outside the poet’s gypsy cart turns to white noise behind this reading, for which she apologizes to her long suffering listeners)
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The threat’ning murmer of the rising crowd…
“Burnt” (6:35)
https://www.dropbox.com/s/tt4c0uhlori44bo/Burnt.m4a?dl=0
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Among us, poets are not paid. The poet/editor of this website, being physically disabled, lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level, and currently lives in her vehicle. Become a patron of the fine arts by making a donation at: https://www.gofundme.com/are-you-a-patron-of-the-arts
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This is the most incredible poem I have ever head. You got it ALL Ana. ❤️
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I’m truly just a scribe. They come through whole!
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