At The Thought

My heart leaps

it leaps and leaps and leaps
within the net I've given it

and then it retires
with severed feet
.
.
.
.

Crepuscule

You mourn birth?
Holy shit!
You are quicksand
to my mind
and so far down
you have pulled yourself
that there is no further darkness

Even my paltry light
casts feeble glow
on a miracle
.
.
.

Sorrow Loosed

I blow out

acerbic wind

of my own making

chapping lips

and setting fires
.
.
.
.

Rust

Image found here

Things left unattended

take life

from our procrastination

their procreation

born of our burden

but not our labor

such beauty

makes us wonder

if we ought toil

at all

.

.

.

.

Windows of the Soul

The eyes
tell a tale
or so stated
by the illiterate...

The eyes
only transcribe the heart
in it's native tongue
.
.
.
.