autumn
crisp, bright
drifting, cooling, turning
leaf-lined days meet pale horizons
settling, quieting, deepening
still, silver
winter
the last page is gone
torn cleanly out of the book
no final words wait
the story stops mid-sentence
somewhere beyond the torn spine
endings gather there
each one wanting to be true
none can reach the door
every ending stays alive
on the lost page still in flight
perchance it escaped
slipping quietly from print
into someone's thoughts
weaving space between bookends
the story scripts the reader
There is no middle ground for girls like me,
just a thin, cracking line of who we’re allowed to be.
Too old for swings in the fading park light,
too young to be trusted out late at night.
Too grown for dolls on a bedroom shelf,
too childish to speak for ourselves.
Too pretty?
You’re begging for eyes.
Not pretty enough?
You’re no one’s prize.
Bare face?
You look unwell.
Lipstick on?
You’re cheap as hell.
No boyfriend?
No one cares.
Have one?
They count your stares.
Too loud?
Sit down.
Too quiet?
Don’t drown.
Too soft?
You’ll break apart.
Too strong?
You’re hard of heart.
Every choice wrong.
Every step watched.
Growing up girl
is losing before you’ve fought.
Attraction between us?
Admiration for you?
Devotion for one night?
Obsession for a lifetime?
Aphrodite has cursed me?
Unprecedented, this desire to love, you say?
To spend my days beside you?
To flee my desires, my very self?
I thought I was the strongest of all,
Until I quietly changed my mind.
Somewhere between then & now,
I learned how to slow down.
Not because the road changed,
But because I did.
The old frames still exist,
the ones only I remember
In the order they happened.
Funny how something can feel so true
And still belong to a place
You can never return to.
So I left the door where it was,
The memories where they were,
And myself somewhere beyond them.
I travelled far to cast my vote,
carrying the weight of life with me.
By evening, I watched the news
my country had built a mighty weapon.
Missiles, aircraft, fire
I felt proud of our strength.
Then I stepped into my garden.
The leaves still held
the morning's dew.
A flower still carried
the last light of the sun.
I watered the plants.
The sky roared.
Aircraft crossed it like birds,
but instead of flowers,
they dropped death.
My garden turned red.
One white flower remained,
a single drop of blood
resting on its petal.
I looked at the sky.
Who won the war?
Who lost it?
The sky stayed silent.
The earth answered in blood.
I gave my vote for my country,
and felt proud of its strength.
But when will we win
the greatest war of all
the war for a world
where a child's white flower
never carries the stain of blood?
Morning drifts through the room, its softness laying on everything.
Objects hold their breath, waiting for names that never fully arrive.
In the quiet between things, incompleteness becomes its own kind of grace.
On starry, moonlit nights
Or those pitch black ...
These are the roads ...
I drive forth and back
My tailights and headlights
Go rolling through the mist,
Scattering newly dead leaves
With a turn of my wrist
Fenders ruffle the wildflowers
That grow high by summer's end,
Brushing them with wind ...
As I go sailing 'round the bend
The fog through my fingers flows
Cool, damp almost eerie to feel,
Sends a shiver along my bones
With one hand on the wheel
Time, it disappears out here
Old songs on the radio,
All around spin tones of gray
Driving as fast as she can go
Between midnight and morning
A lonesome hour for some,
Here you'll find an empty seat
If another soul wants to come.
Sitting on the sofa
the silence separates them
like ripples in a pond
ever spreading wider
never reaching the end
she's heard all his jokes
he knows all her ways
there's nothing to be done
as they've no more left to say
damned if they do damned if they don't
can't live together won't live apart
they've outlived their love
it's enough to break your heart
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Contest: EIGHT BY EIGHT Poetry Contest
Date: August 1, 2026
Fog Between Souls
Silent woods now hold wind echoes.
Grey mist veils our cold, frozen path.
Thick fog stands between you and me.
Dodder wrapped around both our souls.
Rootless, it drained all of our hope.
Broken leaves wept right at our feet.
Who stole our sweet love into fog?
Only silence softly answered.
First breath, washed for light,
Last breath, rinsed of all life's dust -
Begrimed in between.
His hands trace down my skin,
his lips on my neckline.
A sigh escapes, unbidden,
as he lays me down — gentle, deliberate.
The room dissolves into shadows,
only the rhythm of our bodies remains.
Each kiss a spark,
each breath a flame.
His eyes devour, his mouth creates,
pleasure blooming faster than thought.
I am undone,
a canvas painted in fire.
The silence between us is not empty,
it hums with the weight of desire.
And when the night folds into dawn,
I realize,
the inferno between us
is the blaze that will never die
Perhaps a change in circumstances
Or l am just living on the side lines
Do l simply ignore their advances
Or am l stuck within my own confines
Though even now the heart still dances
As always it seems l am in two minds
Whenever l think of past romances
Alot unlike that of todays dimes
With all of the awkward one way glances
Or is it l am just strugling to see the signs
Still though l wonder what are my chances
Of finding someone now in these times
Written 2021 follow up to desternasion and fate 98...,
Forbidden Dance
Our voices drown in the low tide of our secrets.
That still paints a silver moon on the ripples of water.
Because it dances between conversations,
Now that the sound of laughter is in the air.
Having arrived at dawn, we can hear our stolen steps begin.
In this escape, a tangled rhythm we share.
We move as one, what a waltz in a forbidden dance.
Between intimacy that’s in succession of secret lovers.
Our souls dance over this forbidden dance.
We knew it wouldn’t last.
Grab a crab, nab a snack.
Crack a claw, smack a stack!
Mayo mellow, a silky spread.
Ham piled high on crusty bread.
Salad stacked, crisp and bright.
Every mouthful is pure delight.
Best darn sandwich you've ever seen.
Packed with pickles fresh and green.
Watch them crab claws — They're set to go!
Grab too late? — You'll know your woe!
Toasted, roasted, golden brown.
Best darn snack in town, hands down.
Crunch and munch, chew with cheer,
Grab another while you're here!
Hands have fingers; crabs have claws.
Both love lunches—that's the cause!
Faces has smiles; claws have jaws!
So grab a crab and catch a snack.
Smack your lips and whack it back!
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