Saturday, April 11, 2009

Falling Through (or the Longest Day)

I don't want to look stoopid, but that man I said was God just died.

Quit looking at me.

Depression’s largess
Hood over fallen tears, short
Fall of heart not skill


Shame wipes a damp brow
Salted self-preservation
Casts itself seaward


Nets gaping with holes
Cast hope into the ocean
The hollow buoy floats



Chazzz said...

Spring whirlwind scatters
uncertain leaves lost adrift
gathering awaits

small bit more at

Sunday's comin'...

Tattoo Girl said...

Drifts of flotsam
Beneath, a puddle of grease
A seeping secret.


Craig and Bethany said...

Your one liner under the photo says it all.