Dark

the world changing,

hope almost done,

but the ironic thing seems to be,

 this is the choice taken by world leaders,

far and wide,

ignorance grows as schools fail,

people suffer while money generated at unheard of rates,

people die daily as leaders talk of peace,

Alice, never had it so dark, in her wonderland,

but this no fairy tale,

this reality,

dank and dark. 

 

Flowers

hoping my transgression forgiven,

or at least,

understood,

flowers given,

a reminder of happier times.

 

akin to a dream,

the image, foggy and sorta gray,

Flat Top,

a mesa on the edge of the canyons,

just south of town,

seemed sacred and holy,

still in my dreams,

these past 6o years,

comforting,

a sense of home,

as my journey comes to an end.

 

Home

home,

the place the soul rests,

the body, one with the place,

no need of others,

this is where I belong,

this is home.