Crimson clouds hang low.
The day’s embers glow softly,
burning down to dusk.
The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future
I go to freeze on dark tides
I wake before three.
for another’s riches
Waves, softly lapping
Dappled light wanders.
Across the lush, verdant grass
The night air’s cold hand
reaches down and pulls my breath
in shards from my chest.
Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my
A person like you standing in the debris of what once was a home.
Turkey, corn, stuffing, yams, cranberries, covered in melting candle wax.
Looking desperately Seeking but not finding words That rhyme with purple.
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