July 20, 2019Poem
I miss Kora dreadfully.
natureidentitymortalitysolitude
I miss Kora dreadfully.
Whisper it
In the evening as
A dying sun dips
Below towering treetops
Columns of insects
Swirling in tight circles
The chill of evening creeping
Out of the shadows
Greedy Pigeons
Wearing overstuffed coats
Marshalling the remnants
Of another spilled meal
Too selfish to share
Whisper it
Into the empty air
As a liquid sky turns a darker hue
The promise of
Another day
Leaking out through
The holes in a
Drunken braggard’s story
The sound of Saturday
Sliding away
As easily as a slippery thought
Escapes the reach
Of mindful control
Whisper it
And I will hear you.