Category: POEMS

Sprouting fingers digging slowly,
through the damp amorphous earth.

She hears the rhythmic music of the band, above the waves that whisper in the night.

Her bed is a boat,
rocking beneath a canopy of stars,

The patients sit in listless rows
as worry and discomfort grows,

Together, silent, walking
near where the river flows.

A snarling wind that bites and howls
is tearing at the waves,

She was sitting in her garden on a pleasant summer day, when she heard the sound of music as a flute began to play.

Perspective from a broken place
where debris hides her view,
impedes attempts to faintly trace
the form of what is true.

Her echoed whispers fade away
while he is gazing at his face,

Within the vivid garden of her mind, he light cascades in golden ribboned beams,