Tuesday, May 31, 2011


A wanderer
in dark and light places
over thresholds unrestrained
lone expanse of blank walls
bare floors begging to hold
stark windows a screaming beacon
teasing with paths not walked.

Empty smiles returned
with an aching jaw
around corners, another
from the floor, a third
smelling of blind nescience
like fading puddles under dry heat.

A key shines in the dark
gold, or just fools
perched on the ledge of an ear
mumbling smoky promises
of an open door,
a wisp between reaching fingers.

Fickle and frail
this wandering thing
let it pierce the rusted groove.
With mortise freed, grace then fled
and the lock fell
to the floor.



  1. That is why I am the slave girl.

  2. next to last stanzxa is my favorite

    " a key shines in the dark...gold,or just fools
    perched on the ledge of an ear"

    That was so vivid. THanks for letting me read this, dear.

  3. @ dafeenah- Whatever. You are slave to no one. You are every bit as talented as I, but you have wicked experiences that I don't. Street cred, baby.

    And being the obsessed perfectionist that I am not, I had to go back and fix the rhymey part. It was bothering me.