When will it be okay to just be tired?
not angry
-startled by shadows of fear
not depressed
-nursing hate into despair
not anxious
-spinning wants into the air
Just tired
-resting calm
eyes closed
-finding peace
Nocturnal
Regret
Listening
between the lines
of gray and green,
dreaming
lost in regret
with want and hope.
We own the place… right?
From Under
When the under stuff sticks
stays
like a cape
covering all the hurt
hate
from within
reaching up to find
a breath.
Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Pexels.com Robinson, Marilynne. Gilead (Oprah’s Book Club) (p. 7). Farrar, Straus and Giroux. Kindle Edition.
Love lost
Hidden
wounds
living time
beneath the
insecure reach
that trades touch for protection
Chill
A Great Lakes second winter comes with a chill
as leaves skip and fly across hop scotched grass
with the whistle of ones waving from the tree top
swinging between sun and shade
in want of spring’s rebirth
so full and drunk with salvation
Blending
Lost in the colors
of neighbors with barren views
desperate
everyone blending
searching
for a place called home
Froze
Future unknown
saved in silence
a work-until-death view
of life suspended
Froze.
Bleak Midwinter
Unseen
Life moves beyond the time of a single life
no longer seen or known or heard
aware no one is aware
the hundreds of heart beats pound in fear
so small
so alone
to catch your eye if you dare
Chill
Bone cold
shiver
wanting a way to warm
forgotten
drafty doors but solid walls
shaken
within the embers burned
Epiphany
Words divide the sides,
felt and heard without soul or face.
Life though breathes
embodied now
Epiphany
traveled in foreign lands
beyond lines and limits
under stars out of reach
while love divine walks close.
Christmas Angel… saving 2020
Creating Christmas
This season is both new and old.
Treasure both.
St Nicholas
A favored Christmas piece.
Honest gaze- no glitz
Winter
coat white outside
layered over
inside
lost in a season
incognito
buried in the hope
rooted within
nurture
Cold near death
alone
no warmth of breath
no glow of caring-
but running deep into pain,
a voice heard without a sound made
into a space where healing begins.
Time
Lived as if traveled
from place to another space.
Felt as if stricken or lost in a fading dream
Forgotten always in bliss and love-
slower and slower in gasps of hope.
A whirl and window
until a story becomes in time,
beauty at last.
Peace
Exhaled
breath to the end
Emptied
pulsing heart
confused by hate and race
not white
under the weight of grace-less men
this Black life matters
"Mama" please
rest in peace
nights
I don’t know in the night
about corner edges and how they hurt
about who is in charge of my broken heart
breath so loud with fear
and yet no voice
tears fall fast and never seen
the space divorced from eastern light
I don’t know in the night
about me, about hope
Awaiting Spring
