Well — hello, fellow struggler
May I say: You wear your patchy-feathers proud
No mind to molting season
I’m frozen in a place of shame, and don’t often speak of my own lack out loud
A desperate whisper on a moon-filled night
This, all I tend to venture
But you! Here in the early morn,’ foraging and in flight!
Makes me think, with eyes anew, that I ought, too,
Fight the good fight
A shame on my skin,
You. Fragrant and permanent.
I pray you away.
Ask ye I, Shame
What is it you want of sport with me
A story to tell
This cloddish girl
Oh! How she fell for parallel universe truths
A jovial tale
Where thee, with all thy dark proclivities
Shouldst mute and suffocate her good heart?
And shame kept you
These green eyes
Left alone
So alone
These long days
And silence stole you
These aching arms
Holding on
Holding nothingness
These words failed
And shame kept you
I am ashamed at myself
For truck headlights I’ve studied from the front porch swing
That turned-tail and ran
For flowers I’ve cultivated from the heart for us
That went wholly uncherished
Heavy rains pour down
These dancing feet now dampened
I am ashamed at you
The sun scorns its shine
The tree denounces its shade
The bridge burns its ends
My blessed teacher
My ego’s sworn enemy
My joy deflated
A bit like Paris
Such potential for beauty
Such horrendous void
LisaRosier.com 