INSIDE VOICE

the gray of shadow light bending, fragments of words like wrought iron angel wings kneeling within a drizzle of mist surrounding trees shed of leaves, desperate against seasons strength, fail to retain the youth of spring and summers shade the moon rises strong, casting a glance over night

THE OFFERING

faced into seasons swept to the edges where clouds form at tree tops, lazily, like an afternoon nap as cotton curtains stir to the gift of breezes and  bright shades of white reflect off the ocean, bowing to blue skies

WHERE ROADS BEGIN

we are the leaves of autumns fall clouds watch over us with breezes shredding softly the passing of summer its more than words on paper as the voice within steps aside the unfamiliar and familiar while time and gravity bend the shadows we are haunted by

CROSSING THE LINE

there’s another place a city road leading to the edge where red roses color a meadow and a forest line provides a crooked path, like an open door, unseen, but known to wanderers, owning the sense of the line crossed over, where shadows are honored like myself to have been there once

EMPTY STOMACH

turn arounds where roads end like poor decisions and empty pockets where dreams the size of mountains fall from the sky melting into an ocean under a moon where new roads fail to create change from unaccepting disapproving eyes while repressing sadness and an empty stomach

WET

rainy city gray on gray black streets clouds pressed low shoulders in the mist each puddle a fluid fingerprint reflecting jagged photos of windowed people and overbearing buildings

THE DARK SIDE

THE DARKSIDE of the moon hiding its face kindred spirits fastened by a line separating the extremes of fire and ice where time has no standard on surfaces without life static suspended gravity dependent, one side bright the other facing backward with a silent view of undisturbed infinity

THE SPACE OF NIGHT

Night, under a moonless cloudy sky is void of compassion, indifferent to the shadows of youth and the old praying for another morning night crawls boldly capturing the weak and fearful sounds increase from unknown spaces branches become witches hands, falling leaves swooping bats, vines spider webs, the beauty of day becomes evil with night

FIRST SIGHT

morning on the eyes breathing without trying, feet to the floor, a moon landing arriving, stretching like canvas dried in the sun watercolors of the room observed the mirror of truth exposes the shades of a face preparing to change washing and then leaving

COVER OF DARK

surrounded  by a skeleton of trees   a shudder of wind reveals gravestones of buried souls   scattered ashes and dust of heroes and villains tossed together into a gathering of memories   where wings and whispers sleep along side of unpacked dreams