MARIAN E. WRIGHT WRITING CENTER

Serving students and faculty since 1971

Lover of nature, 
soft beam of moonlight
turned to lightning…
Oh how her 
lip quivers like a leaf
from wild wind 
as we face goodbye 
Our eyes like curtainless 
windows 
collecting raindrops 
And with gazes fixed 
to a silent dark sky 
aflame with speckled hopes
we both plead with 
fate to be 
gentle