Broken

rust stained porcelain-
hard metallic drips echo
off the bathroom sink
–
far from sleep-
the dripping faucet
maddening

an empty barstool-
I decide to take a risk
on conversation
–
empty glasses-
my napkin
torn to shreds

crimson fingernails
lightly drawn along my skin
leaving ghostly trails
–
rain streaked windows-
we agree
on safe words

twisting in my sleep
I smell the blood and cordite
and lotus flowers
–
torrential rain-
countless lost
to take a hill

late autumn sun-
rising waters crack the ice
from an early freeze
–
a white canvass-
fresh gesso broken by
crocus blossoms

slowly settled in
every movement painful with
these old weary bones
–
well worn stones-
shore water’s
ebb and flow

an old foundation
reclaimed by a forest of
thickly tangled vines
–
blowing snow-
winds sing in
the chimney

snow laden branches
bent over in silent prayer
to the cold north wind
–
unanswered prayers-
the stone floor cold
against his cheek

a walk in the woods-
the ice covered snow crunching
underneath my boots
–
freezing rain-
my nerves
tested

the last leaf of fall-
waiting for the warm spring sun
buried under snow
–
falling sleet-
an icy glaze
on english ivy