Was it a sequence Of words Drifting in and out Like the last time I tried to sleep Through the Drowning sands With silica dreams
Category: Poetry & Prose
Nothing
I grow tired of the reflection How it always stares back at me Like an old friend I’ve watched over the years Condescending, knowing, judging
Float Away
I can hold you In my arms And tell you All the lies You’ve been longing To hear And mean Every word I say Because
Common Ground
If you could see What I see In those moments when You’re most vulnerable You might recognize Through the haze Of your sadness There is
Hand of a Stranger
I may smile at you But it stops there I don’t have much To give you Some words Nothing much at all There are spaces
A Jar of Coins
A jar of coins Set aside for another day Corner of a dresser Where once sat A woman’s brush In its place, now A layer
