The sun has set and I can’t find the moon
Any light at this hours is artificial.
Awaiting the earth turn, my face aging with all the tears,
I go sleeplessly unnoticed appreciating the not so quiet dark.
And so on
March
Not a verb but a feeling,
cold mostly.
The Ides of dark clouds,
hidden hope
of things not yet.
An ache to the bone of want and weather.
Tilting planets and ticking tempests
all teasing and testing
a season to come.
Night Shifts
Sliver moon
tricks the eye
a backward smile
in pain
how do you do?
not well tonight
I see.
Fade
Time ‘s brutal colors and memories
remain broken and fading
with nothing healed.
No comfort.
Just a place of lost words
in pain
twisted
lingering
alone.
Survive
Reflex
Remember
knowing the bite of Springtime dew
melted into sweat by noon.
Lean
Lift
quenching first a needy heart
then walking daily weighted dues
Collapse
Captivate
a wanting window found inside
lost then captured by the moon.
Collapse
From outside in
survival props subdue the fears inside,
where life is lost in battle songs
though oft their words forgot.
Survival brain protects and stands
against, and never for.
Safe until the moon sets close-
a quiet tremor felt
hushing winds
and with the sigh
you find
the self that fell apart.
Forget
Time and hope together dance
twirling drunken steps
like wind tossed clouds
circling skies
day and night beset
An unfixed pattern soon takes form
when pain forgets the hour
and moons of night billow loud as sunrise wakes regret.
Cycling
form shifting
cycling fresh in time.
spaces built for then, remember a now.
death consumes the moment and that next breath
taken deep with grace
creates….
Edge
Brown curling edges diagnosed
a death or disease supposed
but growing still with eastern light
reaching still in winter’s blight
buds reach high and hopeful
settled and composed
Dusk
Choreographed in complexity
Dark yet
Heavy tones spiraling out with exhausted sighs
doxology
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