Upside down it waits
Dried bundle of stems and petals hanging
Under harsh incandescence
No longer meant for this place
Blooms given near full year past
…
Like dried hanging bloomsKept fondly for far too longHow hard the soft turn Dried memory husksCrumble with these old flowersAt my lightest touch (Related: Free form exploration of the concept — Dried Memory)
Emboldened by past success,
I stand firm but unfrozen when I see it.
If it wakes, will it give chase?
Will it toy with me, or pursue to kill?
The quiet peace brings forth
The familiar forest sounds that soothe:
The wind that makes it to the branches,
The birds chirping for each other,
The rustling of hungry deer in the brush.
…
“I know you aren’t thinking clearly”, I say
“Not thinking at all, even.”
Somehow, they don’t seem offended
They just continue that hard-edged stare
…
Words so dangerous
My mind hides in shadows cast
By self awareness
Words to tell my stories
Words to tell them why
Words to give names
To what flows through my underground
…
How scattered am I in thought
How blind am I with anticipation
How fortunate am I to command
That mouth bringing mountains to my door
…
Night rain on asphalt
Under the warm familiar roof
Friends talk over noise
I wonder what it feels like for the other kind
Both so close and so far from me
…