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May 2010
frightened electric god brimming scream
ride the quiet sand hooves stupidly
slippery grains pour effortless passing
hours precisely

    dither

acutely wasted minutes tick-tocking

awaiting that supreme silent moment
when every thought dashes oblivious

perfect pinions carry me to the beckoning
         eternity mouth
gaping toothless gasp border where a sleepy
daughter rests constant on the parallel of life's
steamy twain

cool dark void inviting summon. ever waiting heavy
cloak: wait a bit more.

   i          will               arrive            in         your         quiet          raiment


some                  


                       morrow
PK Wakefield
Written by
PK Wakefield
894
 
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