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
Tag: Prose
That Day
She once whispered to me Of things which truly matter Only once will I say this She told me It is then up to you
Old Men and Their Candy
The old man sat Legs crossed, foot bouncing The blinds were drawn Summer heat screaming From the warped floorboards You could see the dust, each
The Dawn
The dawn was brief When I laid down To greet Your sacred offering Masked by shadows You watched As I covered myself With your fallen
It Rains
So delicate, the rain, when it comes I can feel it, swelling, pressure rising Like a vise, slowly tightening, overcast The puckered, starved earth, waiting
The Only Way
There is no direction When every way is the only way That leads back to where we began A ghost, for most of our days
