Blood upon the keyboards
harmonicas in flight
Chasing notes across the score
horns that greet the night
Eighty eight’s to hemorrhage
reeds that bend and break
Music dying then reborn
—trumpeting our fate
(Dreamsleep: August, 2022)
Burning Out
Some of us were meant to age
of those I am not one
To grace a rocker on the porch
death by zero-sum
When youth is gone my will retreats
the candle at its wick
As dreams abate, the moment late
—flowers all but picked
(Dreamsleep August, 2022)
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Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: August 1st, 2022 11:47
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 13
- User favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek.
Offline)
Comments2
'Some of us were meant to age
of those I am not one
To grace a rocker on the porch
death by zero-sum'
(me neither, dear Poet
I draw breath upon embers
that barely flicker...)
Lovely writing LB, thanks.
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