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 Oct 2016 Michael Stephens
Juneau
on the surface, water may appear placid without a flow
but mother has always taught me to mind the undertow

you say you're just quiet and actually prefer to sit alone
you avoid conversation by pretending to check your phone
i recognize these habits, as we can smell our own

no matter how you try to explain yourself. I just get the impression
that you are actually silently suffering from severe depression

i watch as you laugh and smile and then begin to clench your teeth
when you're ready. won't you let me know what's going on underneath
if you're sad tell someone

November 26, 2014
I said I'd wait a thousand years
A thousand years I've waited
The fragile seeds of hope I've hewn
Have blossomed forth-
And faded.

The span of time, the falling sand
That journeys down the glass
Has shivered down to rest against
The last wish of the past

Words I've writ of you by night
Have lightened now by day
Would that I could read them now
I'd not hear what they say.

Truthfully, the beauty of a newly conjured flame
Undeniably must end
When met with winter rain.
Alone in the room,
my hands are stained
with poetry.
In the high sky
Where the air is weak
And full of strangers
Nothing lives for long
Only gypsy-footed drifters
Come here on their way
To who knows where

And this place can only be reached
Without anchor or rudder
Nor even a moral compass
Riding on clouds of smoke
And it's such a long way down
Through falling-about laughter
And blood in the gutter
To the hungry crushing ground

                                              By Phil Roberts
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