i fear that i'm more eloquent
when i say nothing at all.
as the leaves are more beautiful
dying in fall.
and these days feel longer than
the dark, crafted nights
where i lay
beneath stars, shivering outside.
here nothing that's bright
could ever hide
this small, brief moment
where i feel alive,
and at peace with myself.
sitting idle as though i were placed on a shelf
as a nic nac to fill
some god's warm hands.
and when the northstar's missing
it's clear to me
that even snow globes are clouded
from time to time,
and photo albums fill with dust,
but i'll push it free from my lungs
saving the beauty left in me.
Created: Feb 09, 2010Document Media