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Monday, May 18, 2009

This may be...

Music saves me and drowns me, chosen music I

listen to again and again: My Beloved Wife, makes me cry,

as I wonder,

did someone steal my life?

I drink - just once in awhile

listen to sad or dark songs

and cry.

Fascinated by acorns falling,

Every fall.

I remember them,

Like the return of crickets in the spring.

I love clouds, I watch them pass by,

I feel something.

There is no sound of crickets in winter.

I said


I would not do another winter.

I swore I would not.

I’ve been praying for deliverance

To turn the night into day

I may know the words but not say them

This may be the time but I may waste it

with indifference.

If I am on my knees I am begging now…

If I am on my knees I am begging now…

If I am on my knees I am begging now…

I’d be praying for deliverance…

Listening to a song, I realize

I stole my life.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

Another Day - Ist draft

Another day

There is stillness in this day-
quiet. a gray sky envelops,
hides the sun.
A scatter of raindrops covers the cars,
that are not moving.
The grass is wet on sock-covered feet.
The air: cool, moist, unrelenting.

One can turn their face to the hidden sun,
but find no warmth
to energize easily
the soul.
There is only a cool damp day to reflect on,
to silently trudge through -
to get to another day.

-J. Sinclair (morrow)