Poetry | Stories | Photography
The sky is above,
and the sea is below.
Between the two sits a lighthouse, or is it just a pier?
Colours swirl, yet all is quiet at the lighthouse.
If you exist, I will come
and whisper about worlds not yet created.
We will laugh
and
cry with the sea.
I stand alone as
Clouds move across the shy sky
thinking of the way
The forest is like your soul
when the snow falls on me slowly
I often lament the endings.
Crying on the couch about missing you.
What would happen if you died and I lived?
What would happen if I died and you lived?
The last glimpse of you is like the sea.
I longing to be close to you again.
After the joyous Spring
comes the ferocious Summer.
All fire and burning forests.
Yet Autumn will come for us,
and then the Winter.
All quiet, reflective and dark.
The weight of hypocrisy
weighing down my shoulders,
until I can no longer stand up,
nor cry for the suffering
I see
I hear
I dare not look away from this,
I will not turn the news off
There is humanity and kindness
within my thoughts
and in my
quiet rebellion against fascism
Lost in the echoes
of barren land without snow
Wishing to see you
A buzz from a bee;
the warmth of an early autumn day.
Lapping water;
the boat moves to the river’s tempo.
Sloped vineyards;
watching the way they line the mountain.
Wishing for frost;
a longing for iced wine, cheese, and you.
It is cold today.
A cold grey day.
Walking wounded after touching the trees, she sits awhile.
Now, a wounded healer, the trees will restore her strength.
It’s unforgettable to see you in dreams.
The way you move when the sea touches you.
How you touch my parts without touching my flesh;
you’re in my dreams, yet you’ll never be my reality.
fading in the light
or
falling in the dark
she sees her reflection in the mirror
and
it is different from the photographs
her distorted mirror
of
her delusional mind
C & K 