Before yellow light stabs
through the pewter canopy
I prepare for the morning
sun, deep in the center of
nowhere, and I walk the
quiet path with choked
lungs. If death is contagious
I don't care; my dreams
have become sterile, drab,
and unsure. Deep shadows
keep folding around my
soul and spirit, and I feel
the pain of a falling leaf.
In the silence of this short
day my life moves with the
dark earth. I am the stem
that breaks in the storm
and all I have left inside
my home is the heavy
scent of roses that I breathe.
Bionote
I am a poet living in Colusa, California, and my poetry can be seen in places such as Pirene's Fountain, Bellowing Ark, Open Window Review, and Taproot Literary Review, among others. My books of poetry are available at www.writewordsinc.com, and my website is located at http://bobbisinhamorey.wordpress.com.
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