Illuminated
in darkness, ignited
by crumpled linens beneath
the minutes step to the tempo of the exhale,
the drumming of the pulse.
Expired hours roll out,
brought by dusk,
airy beneath the perfumes of crossed
yesterdays, dusting in reflection of tomorrow. Shot in silhouette of a million others,
masked in whispers
of the ceaseless watch, an invisible face
and two tired hands
signal dawn into morning.
YOU ARE READING
Of Yesterday
Poetry[Completed] Of Yesterday is a poetry collection written over the last decade, and deals intimately with emotions related to loss, grief, love, recovery and renewal. The pictures used in this chapbook are my own photographs, taken and edited personal...
