Two Poems

She counts the moons as they pass

by overhead‚ illuminate the grass

on vast-reaching fields where the gold

spins monochrome the world and maid;

bread crumbs line the trail of tears

stretched to the horizon‚ a hundred years

of endless dreaming fill her heart—

wrench blood‚ tissue‚ flesh apart—

for however enticing these dreams may be‚

she’ll always be chained to the solitary tree

that stands upright with fatigue and age;

traveller‚ she can’t be helped‚ simply turn the page!


Through the blue and through the black‚

a moon whose halo does not lack

the pure ivory of a rising dawn

without the music— all‚ all gone!

And then‚ ephemeral comes the sound

that reverberates around and round

the shadowed shoreline laced with sand

beneath her feet‚ delicate and

like little knives cutting through the timeless

solitude that wraps around her‚ a dress—

naked before the long forgotten melody

of the wind chimes through the air‚ the waves‚ the sea


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