ALL ROADS

all roads lead from me,   long spaces for nights blessings and mornings light as new beginnings stir the senses into full blossomed roads, where no choice is wrong,   full of miles, waysides and memories

LEANING

darkness covers the linen of skin, folding over with day lost, the sky closes out   the feel of sun warm breezes surrender to shadows replacing colors with a flat gray like layers of curtains,   the first call of night leaning into stillness  

WORDS

words slip through boundaries of light and shadow between fences posts past sleeping cats   words are strength from imagination fathoms   words become whispers in night   promises in morning   begging hurting believing following   into dreams yet to appear  

NIGHT REST

I’m on my own line   there’s no sideways just the only road I know   a nameless opening to slip through   the green grass on the other side is well past and without flavor to remember and faces forgotten   night rest now comes easy

A GRAY MORNING

The vanity of the ground was altered by a morning rain.   the meadow trembled under the wetness pulled from the sky   a linen gray horizon without sound slept overhead.        

THE VOICES

she holds close the pain careful not to break it   like a hunger she feeds it in morning speaking to it at night   grieving flows within watering the splinters of thoughts embedded in memories   helping her is not easy when the voices attack me   I know she’s still alive inside when … More THE VOICES

NOT SURE

Voices in the hallway soft like parchment falling to the floor   muffled words pressing against morning air as shadows cross over cracked plaster walls   there was an intentional restraint of voices creating a curious drama for those listening behind closed doors   it sounded like promises were presented to return   sighs of … More NOT SURE

WINTER FADES

A wedge or orange waits for morning fingers   a black cat at the screen door; a pinch of salt over the shoulder   same radio songs weather changes clouds always appear   last patch of snow in the shaded corner of the shed   a few buds up high on trees thrive where sunlight … More WINTER FADES

WITHIN THIS

An unseasonable difference the bouquet of destiny crowded within the magic of sleep the region between unknown footsteps unsure voices while the fullness of gravity prevents the ability for touch   this unexplained element of drama remains bazaar where particles of words raise the curtain on another morning