Rushing back

With a hush that fell
when all was asleep,
sensory mechanics
of bread, rain, and
a white knitted poncho from childhood
came rushing back to me

the fog this morning
was most glorious…
spaces between ages
showed necessary lines;
I will never be as beautiful
but possibly as misunderstood
since carried on vapors
are lessons of silence,
as simple as love or adrenaline
and burned just as quickly.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s