What Must Be Said

What do you say
when you don't know
what to say?
When something must be said
but something said
is always misread.
The unsaid 
sits like lead
and the hurts spread
and the heart sheds
tears
and the mind shreds.

The Closed Door

The closed door
seldom opens.
Behind it lives
a technical hive
where battles are fought
in virtual time
and fantasies live vicariously.

The dust gets deeper
and never shifts.
The air is stale
and sometimes so thick
it seems to be filled with
anger and sadness,
frustration and guilt
and these are not the bricks
from which a home can be built.

It's the middle of the night

It's the middle of the night
when the shadows come creeping
and the moon shines bright
that I find myself weeping.

Everything is sleeping and so still.
The air in my room is so cold.
Jack frost has been painting the sill
and the body bereft has grown old.

The stars all reflect in the mirror.
Who is this who sleeps on my pillow?

Chance meeting.

And so it began.

The frosty morning, like something sharp, pricked the laziness and caused it to crackle. The pieces, delicate as eggshell, started to fall and tinkled to the ground like crystals falling on stone.

Once in a while a brief encounter, gentle as a whisper, as if it was almost not there, can bring change. Like magic, like the touch on bare skin of just one ray of sunshine.

And now, once more, a place often dreamed of, beckons. I can smell the salt and grass as though they somehow know me.

A Reason

I lie a'bed
with an empty head.
Clouds drift one way
the birds another.
I can hear life outside the window.
I lift myself from this downy pillow.
There's a day to be had.
Find a reason to be glad.

Wild Wind

There's a ribbon in the sky,
flying high, flying high.
Swirling in circles,
circles within circles.
Rising and falling
through the clouds.
Riding the wind,
the wild, wild wind.
A Spring wind full of birds wings,
flying!