-

One day,

I found the letter "W" laid
face to the ground-
i knew this because it's center
was pushed downward,

like a nose in the dirt.

with every attempt i made
to stir it, it would only moan
and remain still, its thin arms
bent around backwards.

this is not the first time
iv'e seen a "W" laid out,
having witnessed many
letters and numerals bite
the dust of misplacement-

it is just the sad truth
of our language.

i found a cardboard box
and picked it up carefully,
making sure i didnt injure
the poor fellow further.

it looked up at me and
made a weak smile,
knowing we all make
mistakes—

upon it's passing away,
it was this expression
i remembered most
when i buried it
next to an
"M"...



-© 2020

Stony ground plantings,
surrounded by weeds.
They grow fast and wild,
don't they.
But bear little fruit.

As the sun rises
and gathers heat
they wither quickly. Yes,
Choked out by the weeds.
They thirst,
but cannot be quenched.

They are quick to sprout
with excitement,
but have such shallow roots.
Ah, and as the winds pick up
and the storms rise
they fell first and fast.
Oh, do they ever
tumble quickly.

Having no firm ground
on which to stand.
Such a pity really.
So much promise lost.

I have seen it in my daughter's eyes.
I have felt it in my dads embrace.
I have kissed her perfect lips.

Tasted, touched, seen and smelt.
      
               But never held;
                     For long.