Poetry Blogs (lights)

She drags tired heels

across a tainted floor,

poise slightly bowed

and her back is sore.

She holds on her face

a cold marble stare,

a hard life engraved

upon cheeks once so fair.

Her faulting movements,

once graceful; divine,

her aching limbs now

with guile, defy

her final performance

on this dark empty stage,

memories fleeting

of a much better age...

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`

i will not be scorched
by the flame of another
i shall keep my fire
fueled only by the pure
kindling found deep
within the terrain
of my wooded home


the sun shall bring
enough light by day
and a torch well-lit
shall provide steady
footsteps to tread
the dark by night

[as I search for what
I cannot find or name]

no light save by the moon
on occasion when it
...

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