Those early mornings
When dark lies heavy across morning
And the rush of life
Takes away the enjoyment
Of coffee steam and sleepy squirrels
By 7 am you’ve sweated and cleaned and watered and laundered
Somewhere along the way
You lost the joys of small things
Passions that once defined you have become
Ancient history
If you had idle moments you would wonder
How the hell that happened
But idle moments
Are ancient history too
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J.W.
I remember how proud he was
Of his little patch of garden
Red with tomatoes
And his old work boots
Planted with pansies
And I wonder if he watched a last sunset
Before he died
Alone on a bathroom floor with a knife and a needle
And I wonder if there was
Anything else I could have done
But I’ll never know now
And I hope someone else
Remembers him for more than his mistakes
Because that isn’t all he was
fates
fate passes out talent
with no malice and equal intent
but opportunity
well that’s a fickle creature
who loves some and scorns others
survival
for some
survival is a dark thing
shadowed by a deck stacked the wrong way
Always
She pushed through
Pushed on
And most of the time
She kept that smile
Firmly in place
But every now and then
It slipped
And people asked
Why she was sad
Why she was angry
She laughed it off each time
And sank a little deeper
The truth was
She was always a little sad and angry
And it didn’t take much looking to see it
But people don’t look
Love Story
Let me tell you
About a love and a life
And missed moments
That were meant to be
But fated to fail
He was a soldier
She was a fighter
And if ever there was true love
It was theirs
And if ever there was a tragedy
It was them
You see
They met and they sparked
And he deployed
To a land of sand and rock
And she wasn’t much of a piner
So she fought on with her battles
But she missed his smile
And the way he understood her silences
When he came home
With memories he would never lose
He longed for her fire and smile
But it was gone
Beneath dirt and stone
And so the love story never finished
Just made a tenuous start
That was enough to torture
Those left behind
Home
I grew up here
The trees were smaller then
And the world bigger
I grew up here
In this land of field and stream
But I wonder
If I will ever find a place
That is home
Romeo
VI Word Story
VI Word Story
