The Shadow hovers…
as I wake
from my sleep
Respreading its
shroud
from a future once bleak
Its darkness portends
what fear
seeks to end
All memory entombed,
as wishes
pretend
(Ashwood Manor: October, 2020)
Those Fifteen Minutes
The essence of fashion
is ephemera
Emotion and change
dancing cheek to cheek
The top of the mountain,
a revolving door
Those fifteen minutes…
some to lose—some to gain
(The New Room: October, 2020)
Petals Falling
I took health for granted,
my youth like a rose
To bloom in the present,
till thorns would depose
Attacking my body,
invading my mind
The sleep I’d grown used to,
much harder to find
Not a cold or a fever
for so many a year
No matter the weather,
with nothing to fear
But time is recalling
its card worn and thin
Infirmity threatens
—death budding within
(Villanova Pennsylvania: October, 2020)