It’s incredible
how sharply
wantonly-whispered hits
hurt
crushing
hope, heart
and honor
once solid
it’s hard
to toss out
such heavy baggage
and forget
healing
hope, heart
and honor
now fragile
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The whispering
never stops.
It never
stops.Three houses
Three houses side-by-side savoring sweet slumber in the clear cold night.
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Dawn’s curtain parts quietly this morning,Setting stage anew,Desks in rows, the whiteboard yawns,Sunlight peeking through blinds. Students saunter, songs awaiting score,Eyes half-open, today’s warmup begins.In my grasp, a tome’s spine softly shifts,Pages flutter like wings of finches. Words echo in the air, a chorus of phrases,Each syllable a note in a grand opus.I run through…
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