All posts tagged: alone

A Vague Transgression

Our last night The split in the blinds cast slitted shadows on your skin The moon leaks a pale blue into the Filtered air and kicks up into our lungs  Cat in the sink sleeps away this August heat It’s four a.m  Phone sounds the waking bell You kick the sheets that tie around your knees and go to brush your teeth I pinch the creases of my eyes to keep from crying  Tears seep inevitably between my fingers  Walk downstairs  Wait for the coffee to steep  ….wait a little longer than it usually takes, Trying to grasp the precious moments you’re  Still with me, wishing maybe You’d stay for breakfast Or an extra day, or week But you don’t falter on those plans you made We walk in somber silence into the humid morning, Dragging our feet across the pavement to your car Grab the handle, kiss and wave goodbye Your lights fade across the blacktop lot I march back with folded arms into our empty flat Crawl up the stairs, flick off the lights …

On Things Forgotten

Recoiled skies pass in reckless abandon The wind blows through the windows, Prickly pear and other thorny things sprouting limbs And creeping up the walls of this old sheriff’s office Remain the only living occupants. If walls could talk, they mightn’t choose to speak… We leave things hanging on hall trees, And mounted above mantles Small reminders that there was life inside at Some point. But the bones and blood Of these buildings runs cold, Until there is nothing but the Forlorn faith of somber cries From voices long underground. Ghost towns and old railyards mark the skin of This heartland, Long bleached from the sun and Rusted away from unfair weather. It’s a wonder what this place must’ve been Before time turned executioner, Before people picked up their shadows And blew away like rain-flit flames Struggling for a life that is no longer theirs. Now the frames wilt And weather away in rural decay, Things that once housed, fed, and warmed Now sink back into deformed Earth. Laughes do not echo off the walls, The …

Nothing More to Want

I sit & watch the dawn creep Through under the door The tin roof flapping like a starved lark Breathing air into a set of broken lungs My hands stay warm around my glass And I take notice: I am whole There’ s nothing more to want, & if that’s so, there’s nothing left. I’ve escaped to towns that No one comes from Babies born on the road to Unburdened mothers It’s a half-handed happiness To have nothing more to want Laying on the floor of an empty Room recalling a season spent In a sleepy town, the cold Lingers on your lashes The skies taste of ponderosa pine Press your fingers between the bark & smell the vanilla Snow catches in your ankles As you stumble home Dizzied by jewels in the sky Maybe I will find myself stumbling back there one day… The thought fades & the tin roof Slams again The warm summer Sits still like a promise Yet whispered Beetles fall from the Cracks in the ceiling Dogs bark as the  …