Promenade

There was a window where you could walk by the stores with no mask on. There was a window where the cold morning made everyone blush. We walked with only our footsteps to hear. Back home with coffee at 5 am we bagged up the trash, the sound of the glasses being rinsed over the metal sink. Outside the windows it was still dark. Someone found a lost key- it lead to treasure. The dusty and soot covered roof. The sun greeted us racing, unbelievably fast threatening to wipe the last night away like a dream. We never mentioned the catfish in the pool or the mermaids offerings deep in the cold waters. That window had closed.

Meld

Like drawn breath and a weight on ones soul

the pause is heavy and cannot be held.

In the silence I wait, carrying the hot coal

till into life’s swell I meld.

 

Among  others on the stroll,

with nomad hearts so easily quelled,

the toll that will soon cajole

and into the great sleepy waters weld.

 

In trance none will wish or extol;

so pleasant what once dwelled

in the dreams that stole

the pause of a soul held.