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Looking at my favourite photograph
your image pressed between sepia and glass...
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You are told this is how a young man
finds honor, that to die for one's country...
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If the azure glow of the ocean
is summers' own liquid crest...
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How could such beauty,
Grow amid such pain...
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As I am rinsing off my face
tears are floating down the drain...
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They tell me.....
I'll be writing her final stanza soon...
-
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“Hold out your hands.”
A calming voice spoke...
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It's a bumper box of Belgian chocs.
It's a bowl of wholesome pasta...
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Melody speaks beyond the trees
Yearning for her spirit to sing...
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I will be there when life feels numb
when bells ring out a humming drum...
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Going Out to Play In the World
(an autistic journey...
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a razor teeth sea
swells deep within me...