Struggling with the sticky bonds
Keeping my words at bay
The greater the struggle, the more they want to break free
Forgotten
sluggishly coming around
curled up in the corner
by the cold hearth
forgotten
a spider resting on its masterpiece
eyes me speculatively
the only company I have
while the happy sounds of others
seep in from outside the window
I don’t want to move
to have to face the day
when this dusty corner has become home
cold, hard
like my stomach feels
when I think about donning a smile
pretending
swallowing pride
as others swallow me whole
time sweeps over me
I can tell from the sun’s rays
oscillating in the window
opening crusty eyes
hoping for a new world
the spider has gone
the web beckons
I want to feel any embrace
but I can’t reach out
the hearth remains cold
even as night descends
the others have come and gone
unseeing
I lie almost unfeeling
forgotten
Thinly Veiled Night
In the thinly veiled hours of night
there was nary a sound
but of the moon stretching
it’s light reaching dark corners
forgotten in the day
sleep would not come this night
with such roiling thoughts and emotions
such little minds sweeping us along
why the hurry to the other side
who are they to toy with us
when we’re already too far gone
on the precarious limb
but there’s a higher spot on the tree
where the stars feel so close
it gives a glimmer of hope
to even the darkest watcher
Lament
The ache goes so deep
it hurts
to look out at the bright sunshine
I am startled to find there’s still feeling
when my toes start to tingle
and my breath catches
despite itself
And in a rush I see your face
hear your voice
expecting you to call any day
You left your hat
as if you were coming back
But the clean water
and green, green fields called you
You will be at home there
Where there is beauty
and laughter and song
Where great playwrights are outshined
by the simple words of children
I want to come too
but I’m not ready
not done yet with the darkness and misery here
But soon we will embrace
and it will be as though no time
has passed
So until then
I will miss you and your smile and your hugs and your ideas and your presence
Summer Walk
I can taste the freshly cut grass summer air
Looking at my feet as I walk the dusty lane
I can smell the wildflowers that are nearby
The air is so thick with summer memories
I can reach out and grab them
as if they were trophies on a shelf
and not long past pleasures
The Word Rummager 