Notice A Pattern
Tinkling of windchimes
curbs the loneliness
of a distant night
Willpower
has deserted me
I’m dropped off,
abandoned by
the hooting owl
Shadows remain
to soothe me
Something tangible
under the invisible
& obvious oppression
Yes, there are dark corners
to cling to
Wind makes ghosts
of the clothesline
Seeping into
the yellowed walls
of this
fallout
shelter
I’ve built
out of
tattered dreams
& resistance
Stretched out
over a neon town,
covering me like needles,
the barely recovered
survivor of too many storms
I whisper my guilt
over not letting go
to the hanging vines
& they shiver,
beg me to silence
my pain
Once-glossy stars
have lost their shine,
& air pressure shifts
while clicks signal
the incoming rain
The glass beads
knock incessantly
I answer
the sky
with a glare
Thistle Thoughts 