In sway of sentences and syllables
her purple words were thunderstorm and hail,
a pitter-patter of a summer rain
against the bruises of his tender skin.
Words left behind as wilted cherry bloom
in listless duet with the tarmaced street.
He turned silent, listening to the secrets told
by crimson lipstick stains on cigarettes
by damaged cobwebs on his fingertips.
by silent slander on the internet.
He touches bristles on forgotten chin
and sitting on his park-bench feeding doves.
he finds his solace in the drifting rain.
A pink umbrella listens to his voice
and comes to rest before his restless feet,
he picks it up, exhale a bourbon whiff
and leaves the park protected from himself.
Today at dVere Poetics Mary will introduce us to the excellent Photography of fellow poet Totamai Martinez. It was extremely tough to select a picture. But i was drawn to the color of the umbrella.
January 20, 2015