My words are a direct reflection of what is being played out in my mind. For artistic purpose and dramatic effect I have duct-tapped the "edit" button…
He left On the white feathered Wings of Angels On an uncharacteristically Warm fall night And as my world Like the bottom dropping out Or the proverbial rug being pulled From under my feet I drifted off Where nothing was real And nothing held life With fragile hands The way it once had Prayers became …
A cool fall night sleepy winds blow, It’s not official but so close I can hear you breathing The dreams come, tender moments, your face, your touch And a sudden shift like a rug yanked out from under my feet Our life; you, you, you The shift, disarray; mix of fear and loss Pieces shattered, …
