Apples in the Snow

 

“Catastrophic and immobile.  Delicate and nomadic.  Impaled in blue hue.  Red distended light.  Black shafts that invade plight.  White shards that lay pictured in radiance.  Reflections grazing in the slide show of my mind.  Elemental homage to photos of time.”

Conscientious Observer

I walk a foreboding country lane, as a conscientious observer.

The mystery of souls looming ever so close.

Behind moss capped tree trunks

and…

snuggled beneath peeled birch bark.

A party of three, the dogs and I.

Interpret nothing…only stillness catches our eye.

To capture moments such as these; an attempt to recall a dream.

And, though the harvest is sweet…

to come back daily, my only sense of relief.

Handmade Coward

I am a handmade coward not fighting hard enough.

Not loving enough.

A slow setting sun…fanciful and whimsical.

My wrists…withered branches.

My dignity, a bad dream pretending to set things right.

In the bosom of a heavy load, how do the complacent go on?

Earth tumbles below and heaven cries from above.

I turn back toward home…sadness to be shared with love.

Sounds of Drifting

Sounds of my dysfunction…pales in the silence of snow drifting.

A prayer for forgiveness grows silent among the echo found in seclusion.

Among the shuffling timbers, I hear more than what is apparent.

Stumbling around my humanness…I grasp the acoustics of letting go.

Should there always be a insult from me to here?

Insulating quiet seems so rare.

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