Full turn / the nowhere poems

 

The waking

of dreams

to black

places,

 

the letting

go of 

hands,

 

and then 

the bumping

of things

that go 

wandering mad

in the

dark.

 

the sirens

whisper of 

self-pity

and broken

words

tossed

together

at  a poet's

feet.

 

The heartless

realization that 

not all

seeds

beneath

a Michigan

winter's snow 

are for

blossom.

 

Some will

just be

left

to die ,

 

others will be

blown away

forgotten

 

to other

distant fields

by the 

wind

 

and others

will never

know the

difference,

 

and never

to be

heard 

from 

again. 

🌷 (1)

◄ Awake again / the nowhere poems

Patty's magic bus / the nowhere poems ►

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