Moments of the past do not last
days kicked into the long grass
A warm early-summer’s day
gold petals into bloom today.

For God’s sake!
stormy-autumn comes
later, flurries of snow melt
into a body without  heat

Frozen snow above
tumbling-heaps of red, gold, brown
that used to crisp-crackle underfoot
like old ghosts who lose their threads,

Druggies:  their fragile, thin
eyes like skin
echo the savage-silent-dead
of memories-lost, nights storm-tossed inside a head .

Dust-motes float,
like gossamer,
soon, we'll all be dead.

stones glittering in the rain

Words you  thought, but never said,
the very eye of the storm
the vortex: 
a moment of calm,

Old-ghosts finally-fled,
into the very heart of the storm
gripped by chapped, red-raw hands
cast into lost-time’s silent beating drum.


Suicide Mortality and Coronavirus Disease 2019: A Perfect Storm? - Lori  Calabrese, MD


◄ Born again

Pain ►


No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message