always unknowing & unreadable
her eyes play from the shadows
teasing & taunting
forgive me, i am so tired
of these games
Category: poetry
games
Photo by Dariusz Sankowski on Unsplash red dirt
Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash sitting the red dirt
casting needle bone raw
hey fox, ho owl
what tales do winds tell?
given to ghost on promise
tied leather, wrapped lace
turning on bright flame
if the memory serves you
well
sitting the red dirt
between pine and swell
hey owl, ho fox with
promises winds tellunexpected outcomes
Photo by Suzanne Rushton on Unsplash mad hare, what drove you
to dodge the night fallen snow
from here to there and back again
all dizzy in your frenzy?
it seems you lost your head
the large crow said, as he
cleaned up the mess of you
left out in the yard behindkilling jar
Photo by Dariusz Sankowski on Unsplash shake, twist the flame
dancing on the edge
give shout and no one
seems to hear
becoming flutter
all wraith and dream
with a voice gone mute
and eyes, no longer see
a history on display
inside for the killing jarburning books
Photo by Ville Palmu on Unsplash these witching hour dreams
what are they supposed to
mean?
that chapter has long been
burned at the stake i cannot
will it into being
leave now, o ghost
so perhaps we can dream
another life
where our books no long burn
