Surviving
When no one we feel...
The long tentacles return
to gather you...
How life and death are
clinging on to each other...
You never wrote a sonnet on that thread
nor have you posted one in your account...
She is a frosty breath of air
on a crisp winter...
Sometimes inspiration
comes in a bolt...
As I close my eyes,
& I start to pray...
Every second
I am born into the world...
Some things are not so clear that's why my mind is...
In the sun, the shining sun,
you in your glittering fun...
gone for a season
and then you return...
Your breath became the smoke I see;
Your smile would shine in fire and light...