Time is brutal to colors and memories
Broken and fading places stay real
Nothing healed
No comfort
Just a place of lonely pain and lost words
twisted into failed love
unspoken.
Fade
Collapse
Survival frames from outside in-
gird by outer stress,
fears inside cower safe
a nurtured life facade.
Survival brain protects and stands
against, and never for.
Safe until the moon sets long-
a quiet tremor felt,
the winds subside,
a sigh is heard,
before you fall apart..
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
Morning Moons
Lighting the path beyond,
the moon leans toward a fate larger than death,
the eastern sun bullied by looming clouds of day.
Life speaks daily in the rise and fall–
hope wrapped in even the darkest morn.
Hunting Season
It’s that time of life when gentle and innocence fall
the eyes of the deer go dark
while the heart of sporting egos reign.
We all feel broken a bit
and generations suffer generations.
As foot prints in the snow crush the buds beneath
we all stay hungry for peace.
Leaving
I saw it whipped
waving above
nearly alone
holding on.
I saw the cords
life surging on
from ground to stem attached.
Then off balance
in twinkling light
I heard a breath
release…
past all the others hanging still
a twirl and dance, a northern front
leaving ties
the shackles gone
and falling free at last.
The Kiss
When life is taken
Time stops
Reverses even
Memory cradles Moments
Mistakes and
Madness
Hear then the chimes awaken
All souls
Forgiven en mass
Resurrected
Kissed
Death to life imagined
Days of Fathers
for Michael
Silent
Strong
Edges and borders
Marking love like a destination.
The grey in between, though, soft and caring.
Big-Brother-Like
birthed in so much softness
trained now to guard
the soul of hearth and home.
Beget
I will remember
this innocence
tattered by life and broken
dead
grace be damned
and fathered still
I will remember
though knowing too late
the father loss pain
of his begetting
Nocturnal
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
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