Pollyanna

As seen in Dream Glow Magazine.

Your pried grin
is like the spectrum of a breaking dawn
painting what was once blank and vacant.

Through storms and haze,
I may pave ways through rainy waters to get to you.

Despite this colorless world,
you’re the cause of my reason for clichés.

Believe me when I say 
that I’m of sound mind,
that I fear no guillotine or sickle
beside you, your hands in mine.

Though my skin is thin and my frame is fragile,
I can hoist you up when you fall to yourself.

I’ve never been one to inspire,
unlike you from when we first met,
nor am I a soothsayer,
but when I look in your darkened eyes 
and I see the calm of the moon 
even when you see skies without starlight.

Summer Night

As seen in Brazos River Review.

Sitting under the lux of a lamp
in the middle of May
idle on a hardwood bench,
I watch couples stroll by
without turning
as the sweat between my
collarbones have rested.
Wind howls,
blowing into leaves of clover,
combing through ashes,
all while I’m seated transparent
as a forgotten phantom.

Thank you for reading this edition of The Morning Owl. If you liked what you saw here, please leave a like, subscribe, leave a comment, and share this newsletter. Until we meet again, do take care.

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