Piled high the boxes reach
to brush against the ceiling...
Blank pages stretched before me,
threatening in their stark innocence...
The glint of gold amongst the green
a berry ripe with autumn’s sun...
At last awaken senses
dulled by subjugation...
A Stranger Watching Life Pass By
Is this all there is...
Caught within a memory, the world continues on
it's mad rush headlong to oblivion, yet I am...
There is no dreaming here.
No beauty left in washed out...
Safe haven in the storm of life
I cling with fingers numbed and worn...
Peaceful recollections blur sharp edges
as under summers sun time reverses...
Deafened by the dying blast
they wander...
She knows.
She always knows...
The nights are closing in and winter
stretches out cool fingers to caress...