Self Portrait
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In the slushy shine of winter mornings,
The harsh, huffing breaths of a
Hushed and harried engine heaving
Its hoard of hearts and hopes
Hastens the horizon, rushes
The clicking clack on slickened rails
Canvas like spring flowers
Easel built of sweat and blood
Paint, the colors of memories
Painting the picture there I see
it's me.
I take down the portrait for all to see
"Hey, do you see that girl?"
Self Portrait as the Weeping Willow
Reservoir in my eyes,
current of my heart,
snapped the twigs of
my veins.
The fear, I feel. From
My head to my toes.
Uneventfully I awoke.
Unsurprisingly the sun beating hot on the single paned windows –
Caused dew drops of moisture to form
Dragging myself out of bed,
Discarding one used shirt for another,
Skin like frozen glass
Eyes in pewter casts
My mouth writes an open invitation
For you to explore
The caverns these thoughts came from
Opulecent iris
Opaque navy eyelids
In the dead of night, crickets play their song.
I lay on the cold dirt ground, while in your arms.
Look up, you say.
A diamond filled like sky.
I see a smile.
