Micropoetry 6-14-2020

fallen robes
in a place
where many watch
and we no longer maintain
a sense of self

etched into
the cracks of time
she waits for me
where the wind
no longer breathes

round the whirlwind
where life begins to move
in a carousel of sound
and it’s always one more stop
until we can get off

as dunes
collect the sun
where wind and waves
dissolve in mist
I’m carried
as a fleck of dust
into the pulse
of the world’s light

spreading arms wide
while pointing fingers
as the world drops in
from the cold
and all our cares
have frozen in place

through the glass
where the world turns
in different directions
as we float apart
unable to make connection

coming from one place
and then another—
when we look it’s not there
and darkness grows
to engulf it all


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