Raised white footprints Over a sea of broken pavement Rimed thick with salt We wander across the graceless plain So many lost souls Praying for the sun to rise, Yet hoping it won’t.
The sun rises golden Across a crisp mirror lake Echoing mornings past Warm breath mixes with cold clearness And steam puffs like smoke Signaling to the world the joy of the dawning day Life shivers Out into the growing light, In between worlds The cycle of life continues.
Pen I my hand, Ink stains my fingers The crisp clean smell of paper soothes me The pen glides smoothly Creating delicate lines That grace the paper Echoes of my heart.
I know I haven’t been there, I’m absent, I’m absentminded I’m one of those people, Adrift, Adrift in my own world I need an anchor, An anchor to hold me tight I’m hard Hard-wearing Been through too much to mention I’m over Overbearing Over whatever you have to say