Scuffed shoes, light as smoke on life-bruised feet.
Alone with my reflections
And the moon
And the thump, thwap, scrape
Of soles on ground up asphalt.
Nothing to see, here in drifting heat
Just lips worn of expression,
Chapped, gasping, striving for
Silent as scuffed shoes
Grind frantic breath to asphalt
Nothing to hear, as stars sigh to their seats
But cries of stopped confessions
Of fear and faith and fire,
of tears extinguished.
Ashes layer, soft as breath, on ancient asphalt.
Nothing can show, the battered heart decreed.
Let scattered arms of silence
Hide the stains of inner
War, while They sleep. Leave
The trail of smoke embedded in the asphalt.