weekend…

a faceless crowd of people
moving here and there
without voice in slow motion
as if lost or confused about their destination
and i stare through my window at passing cars
wondering when i will see
the one face that gives voice to my day

who shall stare last…

a dark sweaty form
staring into the desert sun
from behind an oasis blind
stars and stripes
on his shoulder
symbol of freedom
waiting
fearing
killing
       burst of light
penetrating metal
       third of an ounces 
       less than 2.3 seconds
and
       another symbol of freedom
is stared at
by the desert
in life’s
only
true
freedom

image for a valentine’s aftermath…

 

she would sing to you a night song
but she has forgotten
the words
and she is uncertain about the tune
so she might speak to you
if she can but
recall what words to speak
or perhaps she shall only stare
at you
and hope that you can feel her thoughts
as you can feel the warmth
of her hands
against the base of your neck

 

 

This is the second poem that grew out of a question posed by Mirella about Valentine’s Day. Vist her blog!