against the grain
wheels roll
over damaged black
tarmac
frozen in motion
waiting
in quiet frustrationheels leed legs
feels slow
cracking as they hit
timing
from green to flashing
striking lines
lost in a rhythm
striking lines : : a woman's journey
a moment between
i heard a voice in a weakened state,
a voice i had not heard
since objects had no names,
a time of magic and joy
that has since faded,
misplaced,
deep in the recesses.
i chase this faint whisper,
a breeze of innocense
born as truth,
sounds emmerge as
light leaps over structure,
shadows pushed aside,
stars now clothed
in the waning night,
and into this still room
so does this voice escape
in a moment between.
permanent impermanence...
those impressions
we leave,
discarded 'til
erosion returns,
to clean,
and remake,
to wash away,
so smooth again,
like lost whispers
that remain.
looking out,
up, across,
and finally within
the horizon will fade.
