silver-lining
silhouette
cabriolé in the
lavender-grey
clouds
- - -
she was kissed
by the sun
and he watched her
pas de basque
-

when i lay awake
by the bay window
facing the ocean
that ripples the
reflection of the
moon above

i wonder why we
spend all our lives
crying false cries
at walls and lies

when we can escape
to the ocean
or the mountains
where mother earth
shows us how beautiful
she can be.

then i remember
its a luxury for
those who steal from others
or descended from thieves
that are worthy
of seeing her beauty.

the rest of us
have to settle
for the daisies
and day dreams
to remind ourselves
of her majesty.

somedays it seems very clear
that December is never dear
to me.

snow-kissed branches outreached
atop snow-kissed mounds of cold

crystals gently laying themselves
upon the silent earth outside.
a silence that can only be heard
when all shelter from the
falling flakes outside.
- - -
winter after winter
i always wish as it draws nearer

for a family warming their toes
around a crackling hearth adorned
with red stockings and an initial
of our names on each.

to be drinking mulled cider
and mull over musings of the
yesteryear together. all while
sneaking glances at the neatly
wrapped boxes underneath the
Christmas tree we wreathed a
day after Thanksgiving.
- - -
but my winters have no snow
and no Christmases worth
watching through a window.
my family is myself
and myself is sorrow.

grand & glorious,
& a little bit delirious
Chantilly lace
it's not my pace
my style is quaint
weary & intimate
it gets so tiring
trying to be inspiring
wondering where it leads
and when i can just be me

i want to throw
caution and responsibility
to the wind
and follow that wind
across the world
with not a penny
to my name.