Between the Structure

There is no comfort
in this partitioned place
you’ve allowed me to inhabit.

I breathe through clay
trying to find
a caricature of humanity that pleases
me.

Laughter tastes like ash,
but it’s the only freedom
allowed here.

I laugh until my throat is raw,
convulsing, finally wheezing,
in the space I’ve partitioned for me. 


This poem was inspired by the prompt given over at Imaginary Gardens With Real Toads: Flash 55. In addition to the 55 word limit, Kerry asked us to consider part of the film Samsara, The Angst of Sagazan, for our work. 

Refining Silence

My breath floats around me like a veil
and the world is silent,
save for the sighs in the snow’s descent.

The waning sun still has enough strength
to bring out the glitter in winter’s icy jewels.
Winter’s court is a dark beauty,
hiding nothing.

All the extraneous has been shed,
leaving the trees’ bones to sway
in a danse macabre
orchestrated by frigid winds.

There is strength as well as elegance
to this starkest of seasons,

inspiring us to remember the peace
in the quiet cores of our souls,
to rest, and cherish them
for the blooming season to come.