My perfect prison

With my shaky hand

I explore the rough edges

of my beautiful prison

everyday I add more delightful 

creatures to my spacious 

charming cell

there is no need for a key

who would leave

such a painful perfect prison

The words and the window

Photo by Dan Fraser

The words the window

and the wait

the wanting the haunting

and the will

the whisper the winter

and the when

the pain the purpose

and the pulse

the growing the grey

and the gone

the magic the meaning

and the more

the dancing the doorway

and the dawn

I prefer silence

Photo by Dan Fraser

I embrace the silence 

in the face of the moon

I hear the laughter

of the child in the woods

I seek mountain views

in clear blue air

I feel the soft hand on my face

Note: Sometimes I see the poem I wrote at 6:00 o’clock in the morning in a new light at 9:00 pm . Wonder if anyone will notice the rewrite?


Photo by Dan Fraser

There is a blue light blinking

below the tv

a red light flashing

across the street

a yellow light flickers

in the corner

while soft light emerges slowly 

behind dark clouds

it’s sunrise