Weightened Steps

Weightened Steps short poem

Photo by mind.matt

Between rainy days
Brought by the northern wind
And days trembling
Under the caress of the southern,
I go for a walk with my silence.
I was weaning to speak-
The words have lost their meaning
Since there is no one to hear them.
Only one word remained,
Hanging lonely from a branch of thought,
Like an apple hanging
From a twig of a leafless tree in full winter,
As those people who never leave from our lives
But they remain behind,
I don’t wonder if the apple remained
Out of love for the tree, out of habit,
Because it was afraid of the unknown
Or because it felt too lonely,
But I just wonder if in the spring
The tree will still feel something for it
And will delay to bloom, a little-
As those people who never leave from our lives
But slow our steps, weighting them with their memory.

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A Few Steps Before The Storm

A Few Steps Before The Storm short poem

Bones of driftwood wind ornaments clatter leak sand onto the porch, years removed from the sea sky darkening since noon, wind coming in a variable rush quelling the waves while gulls knife across the Sound there’s a greening smell from