Tuesday, October 29, 2013


Thoughts did rise and huddle close to fading image,
holding hands across the edge of time and space,
cold-fingered, tight-lipped and chilled through flesh,
full imagined in the wreck of broken grace;
rising yet to taunt and tighten heart and mind's resolve,
mocking, silent, settled on the days as grieving breaks.

Remembering - that putting back together piece by piece,
jigsaw patience, sorting through the dust of hope,
where all the broken shards of lost relationship do hide,
and pain does set adrift on salty tears what reason chose;
drowning, arms adrift and soul in tortured, helpless wake,
beneath the brutal waves where nothing will be known.

To waken - believing that it has been nothing more than dream,
and then reality smooths careful place upon the bed,
sits with folded arms, smooth brow and unforgiving glare,
as wishes are with sharpened knife, so surely bled;
dying, surrendering to that which has been always clearly known,
so long denied, and yet a meal of truth so forceful fed.


  1. as wishes are with sharpened knife, so surely bled...oy...what a feel in that last stanza...the meal we must all eat of truth...powerful last bit there...

  2. Whoa...and that last stanza just is so powerful. Well done!

  3. The last stanza is especially powerful and I love the line "as wishes are with sharpened knife, so surely bled;". Great write.

  4. I agree with others about the last stanza. You have me contemplating 'a meal of truth.'

  5. Ugh on the last stanza - it was bad enough as a dream; to have this for reality ... yuck!

  6. Steely thoughts and hard realities pour as though turned to molten lead, beautiful but soon to cool, locking in passion and truth. The entire poem, fluid as it is, compresses emotion to hard edges. Well written and difficult to process.

  7. Thanks everyone for taking the time to comment.