remembering our roots

A howl breaks through the silence
slicing open this empty room gone rancid
it is not the wind that sounds
but this soul -
No, do not stop reading
it gets better, promise
no one can speak of hollow words
and shallow self better than a shadow-
I reflect upon this floor of covered dirt
pacing a line of our existence
worrying over every breath not given -
A train whistle blows open this groove
gone stale with worn patterns
do not think you are too late to board
even if your ticket is used -
Avoid the man who says you can’t
especially if he is speaking inside you
mine just stepped into a land mine
the howl was his swan song -
Guess it is time to open these windows
hoping she will join us still
penning small letters together while
imagining a world of white space
open to explore the possibilities – -

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5 Comments

  1. Loved the “No, do not stop reading” prompt and the “it gets better, promise” response. Big yellow house cafĂ© fan here!

    Reply
  2. Agree with Ray! Happy poetry month!

    Reply
  3. Hooray for that land mine! That’s the loudest shadow I ever heard.

    Reply
  4. I love how it feels like you’re speaking right to the reader. There is no distance, but rather an invitation to listen. :-)

    Reply
  5. I never thought landmines would be a force for good but there you go. A world of white spaces to be graffitied on sound immense.

    Reply

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