curiosity piqued
a life spent trying
to avoid the ripples
of living,
desperately searching out
calm paths between
calm waters
life spent away from
the wind, away from
the sun,
away from
the others.
i wish i had let
the wind blow over me-
the sun warm my face-
others to touch me…
perhaps then i could
feel
something.
see
something more.
perhaps then i could
really feel alive…
Clinton, Iowa.
McDaid
the dark and gnarled branches
Path to the Old Tree and the last of its leaves trying in vein to hold on to the past
Reaching out into the cold light of morning.
Laying in wait…
the stone sentinel wet with the breath of morning.
Metal cold holding back the past
the glow of light in the fog clenching the brittle remnants of sunshine
the cold house of lives forgotten
the path
the end…
I really wish I could identify all of these things… I really need to read up on local flora and fauna…
Black Devil
