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S R Mats Jul 29
I just cannot see
Why you won't open to me?
Why put up that wall
When you know that I'm not tall?
Yet, though I am just small
Still, I can see it all
When I get a glimpse
into your wounded heart.
S R Mats Jun 3
The heat of summer is heavy;
A spider has hung a dragline;
In it a lone leaf dangles and spins

Amidst the humid breeze.
A rattle and hum soon rise as insects  
Calls out, "Beware! Beware, as you fly!"

For a silky trap awaits the foolish
Or the absent-minded soul
Quickly caught unawares.
S R Mats Jun 2
A chance encounter.

So precious and fleeting is this brush of one life against another
that we may never realize the impact it has on our life or theirs.  

The impression is, nonetheless, left.
A chance encounter,

How fulfilling it can be when it is brought full circle.
S R Mats May 9
You ask why I do not come around, anymore.  Because
    the sun won't shine with the darkness in your eyes;
And, I love the warmth and the glow of daylight.  
    I wanted more of it.

All the while you kept blocking the light from our lives.  
    Perpetually, all was darkness,
Though, you refused to turn on the light,
    step into the brightness of day, I had to.
S R Mats May 2
I pray that he is not lost to us;
He fell into a hole in his head.
Now, he cannot find himself.
How are we to proceed?

At first, his darkness is soft
And warm and of great comfort.
It comes sharp, dense, scary
In the recesses a cold blackness.

There are no doors, no windows
From which to escape that place.
Only a celestial hand can reach in,
Save him.
S R Mats May 2
My brain pirouettes in realistic shadows;
The sunniest of days have passed;
Here am I in a broken body trapped.
Filled with counts, movements, of time tapping
Until it is only me and the dance;
Out of the shadow and into the bright lights.
S R Mats Apr 29
I cannot express the elusive feeling
that flits across the branches of this memory;
A brief song of just a few notes twitter.

Suddenly, I am in a grassy field or I am sitting high
on tree limbs in the pecan orchards of my youth;
I feel the sun's warmth filter down, moist air softly on skin.

I search the recesses of the grey matter in my head
to find the exact expression for the fleeting memory
I want it to come back to me so that I can come back to it.
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