standing in the eye of your storm
while words are hurled
into my heart once more
I never asked to defend
my right to breathe
when your moods erupt
in jagged shards of tragedy
destroying all the love
we held so beautifully
but I can't fight you any more
no I can't fight the fury of your hurt
It's not about me
this rage you stage
in firestorms whenever  I walk away
It's not about me
when you tell me no one will ever
love you this way again
It's not about
me

Sadness,
A gift somebody once gave me,
Like a heavy winter coat,
Far too big for a child,
But I grew into it.

It still hangs in my attic,
Sometimes I forget,
Sometimes I remember,
But whenever I try it on,
It still fits.

a moment, a slice, a flash
Oh the mind! mind has uncountable layers
deeps and depths unfathomed!
Mountains to fall from
one small trip and you are gone!

This long month
lingers
unwilling to loose its deadly grip.

Or is it because there is still a flower to bloom
its magenta glory
to wash away
or dilute
the sadness
of this month’s decaying days?

Broken flight

They went down somewhere
in the trees

The sky is sad
and full of remorse

But never Calliope

Broadway and 52

God knows
they got to you

She sings songs
of their misfortune

Decidely the muse and
mother of importune