Lost
a dark bus depot-
waiting by the only light
for hope to arrive
–
dark wanderings-
only the moon
lights my path
a dark bus depot-
waiting by the only light
for hope to arrive
–
dark wanderings-
only the moon
lights my path
summer at the farm-
the scent of hay and manure
permeates the air
–
white flicks of foam-
horses steaming
in the autumn air
bleary eyed and tired-
the tile floor in the bathroom
cold beneath my feet
–
before sunrise-
my pillow whispers
sweet nothings
invading my dreams-
the warm aroma drifts in
through my bedroom door
–
warm pajamas-
a steaming mug
on my nightstand
saturday morning-
I fall back to sleep, your kiss
drying on my lips
–
the bedroom door-
your pillow
still warm
bitter winter winds-
corruption festers and thrives
in the light of day
–
new moon-
awaiting the sun
to seek out shadows
curled up on cardboard-
nameless faceless commuters
pass without a glance
–
fingerless gloves-
dreaming of a home
not a doorway
reaching for the sun-
all those years spent climbing up
just to fall back down
–
scorched earth-
blackened stumps
to the horizon
cross legged in the grass-
the morning sun dawns over
a new cairn of stone
–
balancing rocks-
my mind clear
for now
a great bald eagle-
I’m forced to watch her greatness
fly on broken wings
–
a woodland pond-
the still water
brackish