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