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Sarah Spang Oct 2019
Beneath half-mast moonlight,
Above the night-dew grass,
Against the inky darkness of the
Shadows that They cast-
The pines stood tall like sentries
That barred the dark and wood.
The wind wove through the treetops
As it's fingers chilled my blood.
The gaps within the ranks of trunk
Bore whispers of the void
My hopes, my dreams, my nightmares
Had been tucked away and stored.
And there, I gazed for hours
Between the teeth of trees
To delve into the reasons why
His specter haunted me.
Sarah Spang Oct 2019
The breath that breathes "I cannot"
Precedes the one that does
And bleeds into that final phrase
That's silenced with a hush.
Sarah Spang Aug 2019
The mirror of the lake
Where herons hurried during day-
Hailed the hazy nighttime
Off a long forgotten way.

The billows of the water broken
By the cashmere wind,
Painted a mirage of which
The hemlocks dwelled within.

And up against the inky shore
Where dafodils did bloom,
Two bodies did embrace beneath
The new September moon.
Sarah Spang Aug 2019
The air was lilac on the day
The sunset touched the earth in grey.
The velvet breeze caressed the grass
Of meadows rooted in the past.

A ring of trees bore witness to
The blurr of light that cut on through
The dusky darkness of the way
Your silence stole my breath away.

We paced the clearing, fed our sight
With fireflies like Christmas lights-
And up above, the navy sky
Breathed starlight in a soft reply.
Sarah Spang May 2019
The words unsaid are wraiths, unspread
To ears they should collect in.
Unspoken speech, they do not reach
The ears they should reside in.
Instead they're bred within my head
To ripen forth and spoil.
Each carapace returns to this
The over-barren soil
And yet, alas, the words that pass
Take root and choke the landscape
From world around they do resound
In never ending earthquake
Sarah Spang May 2019
The cold night air is a blistering kiss
Touching images and memories that I'd rather not miss-
And yet my eyes trace roadsides as they buckle on by,
The moon's a silent siren in the aubergine sky.

I left my mind behind me in the whispering wind
As the tires drag down miles past the motels and sin.
The city bright and glowing lights slash colors down my face
And I find my mind's now in rewind to settle on in.

Oh the cruel air it does not care to spare me from the dream
Of lilac breeze, the swaying trees, the water's subtle gleam.
And the way your eyes sought cloudy skies - with your back against the earth,
You traced the lines above the pines and reveled in their worth

My weary feet, they hasten me; a foot down to the floor
And spinning tires, the cable wires are a steady blur once more
Yet, that hidden place, that sacred space, follows deftly behind
With the cruel wind- the city wind- that carries better times.
Inspired by The Cure, obviously
Sarah Spang Sep 2018
Is the urge to quell a pain
I've bedded with a time before-
A need to soothe in other ones,
A wound of mine that still aches sore?

Or is it that, at night, face up
Within the cage I habitate-
I seek to mingle in the surf
Yet linger in the mess I've made.
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