Fair
taunting the punters-
precariously balanced
just before the plunge
–
the village fete-
powdered sugar
dusts my shirt
taunting the punters-
precariously balanced
just before the plunge
–
the village fete-
powdered sugar
dusts my shirt
a flame extinguished-
I conjure up the darkness
to reclaim your soul
–
whisps of smoke-
a mirror
in the dark
slowly cooling sheets
echoes of the alarm clock-
bare traces of you
–
cold sunrise-
I wake up
alone
the forest silent-
a skeletal hand rises
from the black water
–
winter’s death-
dwelling beneath
dark brackish waters
stoic in the sun-
sand awaiting ruin from
the approaching tide
–
tenuous footprints-
a shimmering surf
over amber sands
covers pulled up high-
living in constant fear of
the click of the latch
–
black and blue sky-
waiting for the
impending storm
a dark bus depot-
waiting by the only light
for hope to arrive
–
dark wanderings-
only the moon
lights my path
a great bald eagle-
I’m forced to watch her greatness
fly on broken wings
–
a woodland pond-
the still water
brackish
another black cloud-
rain runs down my iron skin
leaving trails of rust
–
acid rain-
too much life
etched in my face
deep mahogany-
my smile as you ease over
the worn brown leather
–
your auburn hair-
easy small talk
over peanuts