Thursday, July 29, 2010

Sunflower.


Helpless, I stand tall,
feigning at strength I don't have,
as a sunflower

stretching to heaven
in August, looks to the sun
with pleads and prayers.

There, finding no rest
from fire above or within
hangs its weary head

casting seeds of tears
with soft aching breaths, sowing
life out of dead ground.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Unseasonable cold...


Temperature matches temperament, manifest in soothing
clouds, empathetically hanging low
draping the soiled earth with tears. Veiled
disappointment weighs heaven, like a mourner
at a wake, remembering promises raw with waiting; aching,
arched lines funnel color through grey.