Late night steam roller
street lights shimmer
and all I can hope for
is an uneventful return
to my home safe haven
middle of the bed
sleepless nights
I’ve lost the power of prayer
uneasy borderline reckless
and I can’t guarantee
the right path is the one to take
choices made promises unspoken
holding wounds close to the vest
red roses drip down my sleeve
white linen soaked in sadness
left hand blue heart muted
and the Raven has picked up my scent
guardian angel black wings protect
aware I am a lost and damaged soul

“Welcome back…” dead of night message flows

I am a widow in refreshed garb
my virtue now hangs like
an albatross around my neck
glistening in the light
once a cherished gift…magical delight

Unwilling to expose my weaknesses
– my vulnerability is temporarily closed

Wasted and wounded, it ain’t what the moon did, I’ve got what I paid for now
See you tomorrow, hey Frank, can I borrow a couple of bucks from you
To go waltzing Mathilda, waltzing Mathilda, You’ll go waltzing Mathilda with me… (Tom Traubert’s Blues)

©2021 TrilbyYates