Angelic Whispers

I hear eve’s melody

A soft tune lifting lanterns against the night’s quiet eyes

Burnt orange glow, pushing and pulling at the same time

I don’t know whether to escape or sit cross legged in the front row

Angelic voices whisper in my ear and I know that I am lost

I let go, drifting away

Farewells from Dry Riverbanks

I stare at cracks on sidewalks

And I think about flowing rivers

Not quite rapids, rushing water nevertheless

Collecting debris, finding it’s way, bending corners

An escape, running south, constant movement

Reflections follow, faces, traces of another time

Farewells waved from dry riverbanks, gazing

Understanding it’s time to let go

A Pause, A Respiting Soul

Releasing weight from my shoulders, if only for a short time

Allowing myself to take a step off to the roadside, to inhale deeply and breathe

Veins draining darkness, flowing outward

Puddles forming at my feet, soaked soles, a respiting soul

A pause, a blink of an eye, the second hand passes twelve in slow motion

I glance backward, gaze forward, stepping back out into traffic

And continue on, grateful for the short opportunity to breathe

Painted Stories on Dusted Grounds

The wind blows, a wooden shudder bangs against the wall

Curtains would have blown with the wind, had they not fallen years ago

Peeled paint crumbles, falls, sailing back and forth before settling to rest

Painted stories on the dusted ground, one only I can tell

I can loan you images, silent movies with missing pieces, never telling the whole truth

But it’s what I can give for now, the rest kept safely hidden for another day