In the world
There are periods
Commas semi-colons colons
Also question marks
And exclamation points
All word rudders
Steering the eye
From wandering off
Or meaning beacons
Drawing thoughts close
Home to shore
Me I rarely
Use them preferring
You to follow
Only my voice
As I lead
Through the forests
Of my imagination
Leaping from craggy
Cliffs to surf
Hopelessly breathlessly wanton
With you there
Exhausted and laughing
At poems door
You
Spring
Blossoms
Greenery
Rain
Fresh
Renewed
Rebirth
Me
Fall
Color
Vibrant
Cool
Recoil
End
We’re
But
Bookends
Of
Life’s
Cycle
Fallout
is at last
settling
at last
I can see
devastation
but
a new world
rises from the ashes
like legends
the world
has changed colors
from anywhere
to somewhere
at last I sleep
knowing the past
is moored
to my dreams
Breakfast
is served
entwined
in cotton and
bathed in
sunlight
first course
is your shoulder
poking through
meringue
second is
your torso
bronzed
bathing in early
morning sun
sliced by wafting
sheers
dessert
is a sweet
surprise
from the
south
I slept
with my
inspiration
Hope
fourteen days
ago. She’s not the
same as the others
as she’d promised me
Hope
is my muse
my inspiration
I shouldn’t have slept with
her.
