Brittle and unloved this season, with leaves transitioning in colour
before dropping to the ground,
why is it that we fail to read all that there is in shadows deep?
Your eyes in their lament speak,
only the wind
ushers away their cries as though wreaths insignificant;
could the impossible ensue so that I could kiss until you no longer
feel this emptiness, this ache
that hints at lengthening nights and shortening days.
I have known what it’s like to be a falling leaf, anchoring sorrow
so as to let sunlight cascade
to the floor unhindered—it looks as if the world could use a reminder,
it looks as if the world could use a reminder.
I was just telling Tupelo black the other day about flat bread
how sweetness camouflages the uneasiness that bursts from within,
what are we heading toward?
Every hour of the light and dark is nothing short of a miracle,
softer than we think,
at least we will always have the certainty of holding hands.
Society is as society does, this much I can safely vouch for—
damaged goods shoved against the yellow curb,
as if to draw a line between those who are less than privileged, imagine
a world where this is the basis of law enforcement,
“fewer people can laugh off the fact that they are different.”
Autumn arrives as gospel; outside the window raindrops dance
with thunder as chorus,
and my pen betrays the hot pink smear of doubt, we only have one option:
freedom to don unspoken thoughts, to strive towards inculcating an idea,
a habit, an attitude
that welcomes change; because living otherwise is exhausting.
Photo credits: “South Sound Minimalist Photos.”
I’m featuring Glenn and his fabulous site “South Sound
Minimalist Photos,” at dVerse this evening. Come join us! 💝
Posted for Poetics: Exploring the realm of Minimalist Photography @dVerse Poets Pub