Just Notes
In progress
New Blood
was there something you
wished to say
in this this much later winter
words seem harder to come by
your grayness exceeds the bleakness
of empty streets drained and emptied hearts
the blank canvas framed gold in the corner
was once hung over the hearth's
licking warming flames
it was your likeness in smoke soot ash
or are you are this dead leaf
that refuses to fall to the
rough ground
listening near and far
for the new blood
of an exotic wind
dying down
to nothing
JPPestana
New Blood
3.10.2022
whole then broken then blown away
a resting place found only in the calm
if the winds die to nothing
an unmarked end for
in your shrunken brittle curl
The White Bridge
the stream runs crookedly goes unnoticed until
the same long hard rain
muddy dull water churns and gurgles like some slithering thing
is what it has always been
a shallow flow pushing dead leaves in the end
from muddy banks to a muddy pond
cuts through day and night twisting
twig and branch and trunk
where does it start where does it end
when then was
there are few here with you now
are the desperation of
pain and sorrow
the forgetting
of knowing
what is gone
is already
too late
to say
say
