VOICE within the gale
speak to me – shudder
soil drench soul – sell
I bind my tongue no-utter
secrets of my shadow-tell
My storm has entered
across a parched land
dust assailed by tear drops
footprints across soul-sand
Let fires burn from my skies
ripping oak and ancient lands
the treasure shall you find
winds, rain, lightning discover…
a heart that’s lost
in space and time…
::01-12-2024::
I made a meal
for you and me
but my plate
was bare
— save the porcelain
— one for you
The truth
of this matter
as surely you may know
— I cannot eat a meal alone
So I watch your plate
and silver fork
and know where
this scene will go
— as my thought wanders
across the big unknown…
Today I placed
a vase of flowers
upon your burial stone
— in the rain
Mourning is the meal I eat alone
::/::
 | EPRobles on OWL MILK AND INDIGO SMOKE |
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 