SHE WALKS IN SILENCE THROUGH THE STREET

“Of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these, 'It might have been.” J. Whittier



She Walks in Silence through the Street

She switched seats,

not lives,

not for a better view out the window,

but for her sanity—

Her sanity

came with the signing of a promise.

Her voice spoke a tender sadness, her lips parted,

heart sounds caught in her throat;

a forgotten half moan slipped through her vows,

She spoke quietly into the moonlit dark.

“Listen to me.” her words murmured a

raw baroque.

Beautifully painful,

extremely vulnerable,

lonely with a fullness—her words formed thoughts.

She continued to walk.

Some words can’t help but evoke softness.

Her words spoke softness,

a contralto of need,

a confession to a priest, a release from the want --

the white line defense--

the difference between secrets and lies.

She has reasons,

they are her reasons hidden in the shadows of her words;

her knotted prayer beads knock against her open chest.

The rumbling memory of voices,

the blending of flesh reminds her that

all evolves from an exploding dead star.

Heavy metal armor imploded to create you and I. 

TJKG

THIN AIR

"Souls are not designed to float around in thin air." A. Chiu

Thin Air 

You rest in thin air

with things like

a lingering scent,

a child’s outcry,

a foreign language,

a distant chill as you drift by

on the intent of your path.

You rest in thin air--

subtle and palatable--

a veil of consequence,

a mile of destinies,

a chance at a fork in the road;

white wings of hope lay low in

a solitary flight of time.

You rest in thin air,

inside the hourglass

of you;  I am lost in the

cacophony of your trust.

My tiny describable breaths

pull you into my chest

barely nourishing what is left.

  TJKG
Read some more great poetry at dverse

I ONLY HAVE A MOMENT

"No, I don’t think I will kiss you, although you need kissing, badly. That’s what’s wrong with you. You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how." – Gone with the Wind

I Only Have a Moment.

In this moment, I feel

the hum of a voice

coming over the

airport speaker,

the passing of a car

engine finding some

other destination,

the distance of a raindrop

pining for a windowpane, all

on a balmy Tuesday morning.

I only have a moment more to

explain the reason I have

for loving you—once I took

you into my sheltered heart,

deep inside the core of my soul,

embedded into the marrow of my bones,

released into the exhale of my breath.

There I felt the expansive

mission of a snowflake,

the trilogy of a scar,

the rummaging of a

tattered belted heart, all

lost to cryptic tunnels

of the obscure past.

I only have a moment to explain

the reasons for leaving you…

TJKG

Check out open pub night with dverse

A STREAK OF COLOR ACROSS WHITE PAPER

 Remember me like a pressed flower in your notebook. It may not be having fragrance, but will remind you of my existence forever in your life. - Unknown ...

A

Streak

of Color Across White Paper

Soon to be a

pressed flower rests

on blank white paper,

fingers compress

trying not to push;

a star-burst of lavender

yellow- the seeping

blood of wet petals.

Slipped inside the dark,

a book on a shelf,

days pass into years,

hidden between pages,

slowly flattened and blend

into a level thin love.

Nature fell from

grace as another season

is forgotten.

A streak of color

across the white paper,

a portrait of one’s wish

is pressed into a moment;

a cold part of a

flower’s breast

replaces the lips of your lover.

 TJKG