Midnight Fog

Inspired by The World by Henry Vaughan

I wrote a poem composed of
midnight fog and saw eternity
beneath the moonlight
of your text.

the Hunger Games are real
so why pretend the coffee
kept us dancing, calm and
bright, for endless hours?

Hesitation

I remember
music in the dark
and rhythm playing
through the air

like noise inside
a drum or empty
hearts about
to beat when

we broke rules
like they were
shattered bones

and learned
that some things
hesitate to heal

in weeks or
years because the
radio recycles
therapy and

we aren’t
rock and roll.

Image Source: Flickr

Photography at Home Depot

these scars
weren’t made
by war but
they are
real and time
wears thin for
battles fought
and lost within
the hours of
an afternoon.

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