Let’s look together, in the tight, dark corners.
Look in the tough, raw twilight– Once, I thought I found a bed, under a dome of stars.
I tried to sleep.
The world is always fresh. Everyone is always looking
for somewhere to sleep.
Sleep is a sort of end, and the stars are
a high, steady beginning. If you find our new bed, or even a pile of straw hay, tell me. We’ll find a bed, make it, and lie in it.
A nest is a new beginning, and dust is the worn down end.
Let’s look high, in the open, bright wings. No– We don’t have to find dust. It’s right here. Don’t cough. We’ll nest in the sky.
Sunrise is a beginning, and sunset is an end.
Eventually, both lose meaning. We’ll forget to look, once we find our bed– Once we find it, we can rest. Simple verses on Belonging Stunning interpretation of Home Fresh Homecoming Poems
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My name is Jon. I'm a poet from Maine. I like to write stuff.
Sometimes I feel So lost I dont know what direction Is up or down I have to close my eyes And remind myself to breathe The sound of your voice Is in the distance My eyes remain closed My breath
Do you show that you do care? Are you really loving me from there? Looking down as I am below How long from now until I know love? The kind that is real the kind that is true Not just
The old log cabin in the woods half hidden by the evergreens, a cozy home once filled with hope, was now a box of broken dreams. A tired body, tired mind, and lonely heart was all she had. The man
Beneath the blue sky on open lands I blow a reed a tune so simple yet very sweet With me hums the wind and each wisp of grass wafting puffs around me softly rustling leaves and swish of small weeds
For honour killing twilight adulates an abstract faith. Tainted? Now that mouth was shut and butterfly was pinned, will you grow the marigolds? The empty book was not breathing in a crowd of words. The bitter meaning had flown away.