writers – Page 14 – Thistle Thoughts

An Update from the Sickbed + Poems

The end of summer is making sure I feel it.

my wrath
drains crimson
down the bath

Flashes of lightning
illuminate you,
and I turn away
lest I cry.

I have learned to be glad
for the things I’ll
never understand

Yes, there are dark corners
to cling to

I want to call you up
and say that every
movie I watch lately
stars you.

Now my mouth doesn’t know what
my shadow is saying.

When I was in the state of erosion —

— things were ok

Why keep ourselves so constricted to something as meaningless as a clock right now?

dawn rises
singing her canticles,
touches the killing fields