dirt on the welcome mat

Tag Archives: hope

in our pockets,

in our hair,

glittering like an unexpected smile

then dimmed to cold camouflage

is the fortune fools chase,

the precious dust

of seconds gone by,

dropped by the sun’s shining pendulum

then slowly caked on

eager skin

until aged and desperate,

it forms deep crevasses

to catch

hope in measured,

treasured time


Behind stained glass and curtain sheers,

Radio static and refined fears,

Translucent like acid rain,

We plant plastic flowers

And hope they grow.


I am old
In a young way,
With wrinkled skin so white
You follow its creamy ups and downs
So closely
That all there is

Is soft and smooth.

I am long gone
But here to stay,
Silent and invisible,
Just hollow enough
For you to hear
The echoes.

I am
Inborn,
Unborn,
Reborn.

I am

Your

First

Wish.


Every spring

You grasp

Green dreams

By the fistful,

And I paint my blue ones

On ten toenails

Released from winter shoes.

We’re so silly,

You and I,

Covering ourselves

With last election’s bumper stickers

And next year’s fashions,

Knowing that hope’s colors

Always

Fade into invisibility.


Dim

Who knew hope flew
With jet black buzzard wings
Which took the sun’s glow
And trapped it in
A tinted sheen that hovers on
Thick swarms of flies
And overused, broken machines.

 


The

Simplest little

Light conversations

Become constellations

Whose symmetry map out destiny

Until one by one stars dim into darkness,

Sending the hopeful astrologer

Smashing her telescope

Into dark jagged

Patterns on the

Ground.


Her latest,

Fondest wish

Has fallen into

Life’s chubby,

Childish fingers that

Jerk

On dangling dreams

Like sparkling earrings,

Grab

Hope’s soft, furry tail

When it bounces past, and

Pound

The most solid, inborn desires

Until a pair of larger hands

Bring silence

And peace.