Four o'clock
dusk is sinking
shadows eagerly waiting
to usurp the day
Winter's germinating
chilly roots burrowing
deep
to the bone
will children reap
the harvest of snow
will its pale smothering
conceal broken homes
as the bitterness
silently
grows  or
rekindle the warmth of hearts
that froze?

Slowly reading
allowing
       pronunciation
to roll,
tighten
and fold      
                    a whispering tongue
orripplelipspucker and smack stretching jaw       and morphing mouth,
  tongue to teeth,
placid cheek and fading
                             hushhhhhhhh.

You bet
there was **** frost on her breath
so coldly she told him to leave.
Just like that
he packed
his duffel bag,
fixed his hat.
Left and grabbed a bottle of Jack
and the first train.
Slowly he took a swig,
as it pulled away
better a leaving drunk on a train
than one that remains
bawling in the rain
after the tomorrows
flushing down the gutter drain.
He sank into the comfortable
locomotive sway
consulated their lust
wasn't deep enough to cause pain.
Smiling he toasted her all the best,
her and all the rest,
then he drifted away
wondering who would be next.

The clouds have gone
leaving stars, space
and a bitter chill.
I stand still
listening to the wind
picking its way through
trees' naked limbs.
My cat sleeps near me,
purring its engine,
close now to its end.
I could have been a better owner
to my feline friend.
I hope he pulls through,
but he's old and no longer can fight
with the other tom cats
who enter my garden at night.

Battle hardened hearts
***** battlements
to protect from future
emotional elements
and
bitter scares.
Because every love is a possible enemy
and every love is a possible knife twist.
Is it better to stay alone and numb
than allow room for more hurt to exist?
If a love should come
bringing liberty
to smash those cold walls
there will still be
noticiple relics in crumpled debris
cautions of what could be.
Don't fear them or let them mislead.
heed their history,
but set your heart free.