Once Upon a Time Poems

Worry

A trembling streetlight,
at the corner of Elm and Main
and
one fallen of the night
on the offensive,
reason omitted.

Her smiling mask
over a sour storm,
the sinking saga
of the howling wolves,
seeing limited.

Marginal demands,
gold mine drained,
designs strained,
clumsy pagan hands
a play never ending...

Through the dark I call her to say:
”Do not remain lingering
in between two empties:
an empty, which is not there,
and an empty that exists.”

This quenchless rain,
looting her mind,
she shrugs, a ruin charred,
her ashes
spilling.

What if she finds her way
where the swing-bridge is?
If only I could manage to escape
without mourning
her life!