Snap
vampires do exist-
in fact I’m sure one lives in
this overstuffed couch
–
the forest floor-
twigs and sticks snap
underfoot
Category Archives: Breath
Fire
grey dying embers-
on rising smoke the campfire
draws its final breath
–
evening dew-
cooling ashes and
echoes of laughter
Homeless
alone on the street
with scarcely a backwards glance
from the passers by
–
three threadbare coats-
his breath still clouds
the autumn night
Fog
early morning moon-
fog nestles in the valleys
and clings to the leaves
–
moonrise-
gravestones hidden
in the mist
School
an open textbook-
daydreams try to tease me through
an open window
–
blank paper-
hammers pounding
from the wall clock
Cemetery
softly falling rain-
wandering through the graveyard
in the dead of night
–
overcast-
reading the details
of those long dead
Trapped
in an old wheelchair
a young girl waits deep inside
the shell of herself
–
first light-
a sliver of dawn
beneath the door
Wet
barely keeping still-
my fingers brushing across
your wet ruby lips
–
waves lap the shore-
your hair drying in
the tropical sun
Regret
early autumn leaves-
I should have asked you to dance
the first time we met
–
sidewalk bistro-
I glanced at my phone
and you were gone
Marsh
among the rushes
herons stand in the salt marsh
waiting for the tide
–
auburn sunrise-
dawn breezes stir
fields of cattails