Death
my soul recoils from
the cold skeletal touch of
the angel of death
–
twilight-
fireflies lead me
across the river
my soul recoils from
the cold skeletal touch of
the angel of death
–
twilight-
fireflies lead me
across the river
immaturity-
unsure of how to deal with
my first streaks of gray
–
afternoon light-
test swatches
on the wall
a glowering moon-
the creak of a rocking chair
in an empty house
–
moonlit shadows-
your hand
pale in mine
high flying embers
remnants of a prior life
slowly turn to ash
–
distant thunder-
lightning strikes
a joshua tree
in a basement bar
the windows dirty with time
drinking my coffee
–
sheets of rain-
a community
of strangers
staring at the floor
scuffed and worn beneath my seat
from those in my shoes
–
dawn breaks-
outside the
waiting room
families asunder-
buzzards circling high above
the southwest desert
–
riding the smoke-
wild horses
in the distance
lying in my bed
beautiful and poisonous
twisted in the sheets
–
african sun-
death lurks
in the tall grass
the lobsterman’s wife
watching the lighthouse at the
dying of the day
–
silent passage-
darkening water
laps the shore
underneath my bed
photos of my childhood
slowly fading lies
–
an old cigar box-
sacred relics
of my youth