the cheese whisperer
2012-08-20 20:09:55 UTC
from the dead end of memory lane,
breathing in...
the scent sends me there.
I have arrived
alone
this time.
An empty, empty field where I
can stand and fill it with
my screams expanding like
a new sunrise across a white sheet.
Where the creek turns into a trickle and enters the forest,
he found her, with a face scraped old by time.
Like a magnet, she attracts those lost for light...
but the sun doesn't shine,
the answers aren't heard,
and the longing
is all
that remains...
....like honey
from the hummingbird's beak,
the lost possessions
found along the roads...
I gathered the pieces and held them to my heart.
Help me lay them down
as wooden tiles
and seal them under glass
carefully within a sturdy frame.