Those days bring a peace of sorts;
Life lessons and joyous faces,
Marvels witnessed and roads oft traveled
Under stars, like pinpricks through
    a blackened canopy of silk billowing
    from your shoulders as you descend to mother earth.
Of sunsets over water—a burning candle
slowly extinguished by Poseidon…

There are those days,
The ones steeped in the past,
Like a used Lipton Orange-Black Pekoe bag
In rust infused tap water.

These days resound with pain and loss--
Tear stained cheeks on a youthfull face,
Peering out from the horizon, nested on the treetops
And slowly fading, as our moon does near dawn--
Leaving a hole in your side that can never heal.
A deep red rose, beading dew in the morning fog,
Crushed underneath a drunkards overturned car,
Drowning in a river of blood.