A Hint of Truth Tasted

I search for meaning in inaudible whispers

The murmur of dangling words rattle around my neck

I carry them while they sit silently in the background

Replies wisp back and forth, wondering which one is real

It depends on the day, the color of my mood, the strength of wind

A hint of truth tasted in each one

Changing the Verse

Shadows toss tapestries against blank walls

Past’s outlines move with the arc of the sun

Voiceless motions counter deafening emotions 

Carving story lines that remain unchanged


Rewind, replay, retreat

The needle jumps back across a scratched record, my life

The chorus sung over and over again 

Until the right moment to change the verse

Waiting for the Gust

A freshly raked pile of autumn leaves

A dandilion, standing perfectly still on a hot summer’s day

A neatly stacked pile of papers, patiently sitting on the sill of an open window

A struck match, a single flame, a thin string of rising smoke

A cloud of thoughts that trail my every step, my shadow

All waiting for that one gust to blow them away