Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Till the Sun Goes Down

Single frames
separate the beautiful
from the simple

But the simple was always
The most beautiful.

Write, servant.
Write my story.

Tear the frames apart
To where I am a warrior
To where my heart is true.

I only write truth,
Layers of halves

I still write,
Attempting still to keep
The sun from going down:

When I will tell him,
I am sorry.
I am sorry for the truth.


-

Our desert (haiku)

I look through photos Our life through the four seasons Back through the old ones.  Blossoming in spring With all the diverse flowers ...

  • A piece
    I had something that I couldn't tell, a hope, a truth, and a lie as well. I rolled them all together with a postage stamp and mailed ...
  • Marker Cap
    I can't seem to find the Cap of the marker I was just using Now it will dry up and shrivel Instead of bleeding through my pages.
  • My Brother and I
    Going up to the counter at the store and being oh so small evermore. The laughter contorts my face all over and under the place A fort- ...