Image by CWMartin
when time stopped…
memory
on the edge…
Challenge Photo II from Jade
the gray morning
air presses hard
against me
holding back
the sounds
of my footsteps
that were so clear
and distinct
as i began
this journey
but now
all i can hear
are my labored breaths
in and out
and
my throbbing heart
a heart seeking
to escape
these city walls
to leave behind
this street
where laughter
and joy
have fled
where only
your memory resides
shrouded in betrayal
wearing a cross
of lies
to conceal
the truth
of who
and what
you are
and what
you’ve done
This poem represents my second response to the second challenge series between Jade and I. As you may recall, each poet provides the other with a series of photos, visual prompts, from which the poet is to write a poem. Jade has written her response which can be found here.
moon weavers…
perhaps this is some foolish
childhood memory
but
within each memory
lies some strand of truth
i speak to you of moon weavers
few outside these walls
know of them
so you must listen carefully
and heed my words this night
at the edge of the forest
in the small meadow
where the fog crawls
along the ground
are the spirits of warriors
the ancient ones
they spin silver threads
into braids of tears
placed upon our doorsteps
as gifts and protection
for those of us
who should own the land
if you must walk at night
you must not let a moon weaver
pass through your body
for if you do
you will feel
the sorrow of a hundred years
ancestors will appear before you
their death will feel like your death
the slaughter and rape
of those who loved this place
bathed in fire while they slept
ran down by horses
branded with bayonets
such visions have driven some mad
so beware my friend
for what you see
may be
your own history
or
mine
Read Between the Minds 