each poetic venture
a brief light
shooting star
across a silent sky.

-

an icicle broke off from
the gutter of my porch,

stabbing my hydrangea
bush right in the heart.

i could reprimand the
shattered remains of an
icy spear,

and then bandage the
wound with a layer
of snow–

yet it occurs to me to maybe
quarter an apple with a
Swiss Army knife,

this pooling of thoughts like
pale blood seeping out of a
painfully frozen morning—

turning me white like
heavy frost over
so many early roses...


s jones
2021


.

Sunsets the hue of broken hearts
Cast shadows on my silent tears
how can a love lie down and die
when nurtured for so many years
The bell it tolls as darkness falls
its solemn tone beguiling
a final death knell on our hearts
that once were bold and shining.
When morning comes we'll wake once more
to maintain the charade
and hope to gather up again
the love that we betrayed.