Account

Indigo
stains the aged parchment
there, left bold,
the canon
chronicles all my days,
all their Nights

~ ~ ~

The Train

The train,
a majestic beast,
yet so subtle its lure.

(I love the train)

Canvas

Paint me a pastoral solace,
Snake a path ’round emerald hills,
Roam newborn calves and lambs,
Red brush me a barn atop the hill
Dab in shady oaks, string my swaying bed
Where I may slow breathe my sunset days
Unbound, free to farm new memories.

~ ~ ~

Dwindling

Withdrawn,
For stead
old promises
vows of yesterday dimmed,
Foreclosed.
Directed by the wind
and destiny’s hand?
~ ~ ~

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