Poetry
from the next collection
Imaginary Way
and you wind on beyond my sight
into depths of time,
carry me deep, lift me above
the weight of now, the chain of here.
“Go...” you whisper, pulling my feet,
“...anywhere you dream.
I lead to places known
and forgotten,
through trials of birth, death,
and the slow walk in-between
beneath leaf-dropping branches
budding with green.”
and you wind on beyond my sight
into depths of time,
carry me deep, lift me above
the weight of now, the chain of here.
“Go...” you whisper, pulling my feet,
“...anywhere you dream.
I lead to places known
and forgotten,
through trials of birth, death,
and the slow walk in-between
beneath leaf-dropping branches
budding with green.”
Dinner at 6:30
between inhale and exhale is
all to be done
and nothing completed
with bodies we are never finished
always starting reborn
and ending empty-handed
time to act is
forever rising
over bitter land where blood
cries out unanswered
justice trickles
down empty streets paved
with wall stones
mortared in imperial concrete
black gates rose at Trier
still stand while empires fall
exhale the works of
minds we admire
while all become stone
bodies become soil
time dines on hubris
and empty-handed to the feasting
we come
between inhale and exhale is
all to be done
and nothing completed
with bodies we are never finished
always starting reborn
and ending empty-handed
time to act is
forever rising
over bitter land where blood
cries out unanswered
justice trickles
down empty streets paved
with wall stones
mortared in imperial concrete
black gates rose at Trier
still stand while empires fall
exhale the works of
minds we admire
while all become stone
bodies become soil
time dines on hubris
and empty-handed to the feasting
we come
after the reading
wandered into the waist high
grass you wrote
blades gathered and parted
hair brushed by green
thoughts, yellow musings
silver strands of poetry
prose
slipped through fingers
your feelings slid
quick and black between
before, beside
escaped within words
beneath them hide
wandered into the waist high
grass you wrote
blades gathered and parted
hair brushed by green
thoughts, yellow musings
silver strands of poetry
prose
slipped through fingers
your feelings slid
quick and black between
before, beside
escaped within words
beneath them hide
fruition
come tomorrow, i can forgive
forget the way the words fell upon me like ceaseless rain
rip out of my memory the tensile roots of pain
words planted in the mind never flower in summer
creep fungi-wet in the dark of autumn night
probe the heart and wrap
vining arms about our best intentions
even now, words spawned in seasons past
come fast to fruition
come tomorrow, i can forgive
forget the way the words fell upon me like ceaseless rain
rip out of my memory the tensile roots of pain
words planted in the mind never flower in summer
creep fungi-wet in the dark of autumn night
probe the heart and wrap
vining arms about our best intentions
even now, words spawned in seasons past
come fast to fruition
Copyright 2023 Anne VanDeuson