The sound of death

My heart has shriveled,

It’s been wounded and now lays cold, unmoving,

Trapped within my ribs, a brittle useless cage.

My feverish head rests against a stone wall.

I am still breathing but I know I'm dead.

I can hear the noise my soul makes as it crumbles to the ground…

Copyright 2010

Photo by Bing Images

Lazy afternoon

Miss Martin sat by her window with a cigarrete in her hand and the scent of violets in her hair. It was a lazy summer afternoon, the kind that makes one sleepy and dreamy.
 Miss Martin had no plans or any immediate thoughts, she was happy to follow the trail of the smoke  as it swirled about and disappeared right through her long, slender fingers.
 And just like the smoke, another day slipped by...

The black shawl

Night wrapped around me

like an old witch's black shawl,

and I felt the magic of being burn inside,

and I wept...

Copyright 2010

Photo by Weheartit.com

Birds of a feather

This bird on my shoulder knows my sorrow,

 it's heard me cry and seen me laugh.

 Unlike others, this bird remains beside me...

my faithful companion...

a feathered handkerchief on which I dry my tears...

Copyright 2010

Photo by Weheartit.com