Inhaling, exhaling

Inhaling, exhaling
The day in and day out
Living in a story
That there's nothing about

The rural butterfly,
It exists in full grace
No sense of purpose just
Its own order and pace

Recognizing myself

Recognizing myself
Still, feeling others' hearts
But when there's no return
The Red Sea up and parts

To escape to a land
Of care and empathy
For all scapegoats and then
Cascade its misery

Without an audience

Without an audience,
Witness or pair of eyes
A vibrant profusion
Unusual surprise

Changing as the light changes
Discovering the folds
Pondering the future
And the Hope that it holds

Abandoning the stars

Abandoning the stars
Too many souls restless
Empty mouths and stomachs
Injured wings and nestless

So much necessity
Centuries, years and days
The frivolity and
Our senseless, useless ways

A pause in poetry

A pause in poetry
Vocabulary short
The abstract lining up
Like ships at docks in port

Or English row houses
Pages prepped for a spine
All, dividing by one
Finding the equal sign

I forgot who I am

I forgot who I am
Justifying the means
Calamity backwards
Filling the in between

Loneliness with false stars
And the moon had no light
Not needing to look far
The beacon of insight

Sharing a small common

Sharing a small common
Our differences wide
With days separated
By a mere passing tide

A jar of buttons for
Garments that came and went
Prepared for a future
That never found an -ent