Sunday, September 30, 2012

In Dreams

Pt. 1

I walked through a forest

of naked trees

shorn of their needles

skeleton keys

left to unlock

the salted ground

with snowflakes

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

The House on Dorsey Street

There is a house on Dorsey Street
I’ve passed it many times
And each time I find it weeping
Raining rivers from windows
Unused to the sun
What sadness resides
Within those walls
That it leaks so uncontrollably
I’ve heard the stories
Whispered from one ear to another
And seen the way passersby speed their steps
Looking over tweed clad shoulders and upturned collars
Lest they be recognized by what lies within
 It is after all only a house, although
Sometimes I wonder
My footsteps slow as I near the facade
And now and then I stop and grasp the iron gate
 We gaze at one another forlornly the house and I
As if we were lovers kept apart
By unrelenting parents who misunderstand our kinship
And think it something dirty and ill intended
Something frightening perhaps
 It wants me back that much is true
To walk the floors and hide behind curtains
Or in closets, safer there we thought
The house and I
And so we pine for one another
And what might have been
And what happened there once
I know that she tried to protect me
I always thought so
Offering up her secrets
And now that she is empty she cries because she couldn’t