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Some places are more reserved than others |
The Reservation Lost amidst a sea of tents, beneath a baking sun Sift through memories long spent, panning for the ones The ones where I can stop, reside, the fields where I dreamed Where pieces fell in place just right, and puzzles strangely seemed Seemed so simple, solved... complete, a jigsaw's picture, clear An image flawed, lost in defeat, floored by someone near Pieces running free of frames, from edges, corners, straights Images bereft of names, with peace found in fugue states A place reserved for things we choose, … a place to simply be Faces found, in time we lose, some things you can't unsee Some things stick... imagined, despite having the chance To see through fronts, to have them, despite an offered dance Underneath a canvas bold, impressive to the last Days and weeks and months, they fold, as years, they fly so fast Marching on, time takes it all, it leaves us with the pearls The memories the grit swirls round, as stories stride... unfurl Unwound through the Winter's beats, the narrative grows cold Stories rooted till Spring seats, as doubts, long held, unfold With life too brief, in short supply, the wake up calls alarm When speaking of our souls, we lie, it's just ourselves we harm Wishing that we took that step, shown someone else that trust Afraid to be ourselves, we crept, round truths and paper cuts … and when such truths stay buried, hid, we never dig, ourselves Simmering beneath our lids, … too afraid to delve with others doubting where we stand, whilst marking where we fall Such trust held blindly in their hand, mute from our hearts, we call Silent in the wind and rain, that marks the Winter's rule Reigning over sacred plains, a sunset lower... cools A catalogue of colours drawn, a different beat, a different noise Whispered over winds of change, through wind chimes, woodland's poised Our stories, leafing from the page, so painless, some conclude Masked in ourselves, such wars do rage, it's there our faces feud In reservations, lost and found, where deepest fears play Beyond my station, out of bounds … I wish I'd lost my way I wish I'd garnered one more night, to settle in a groove With fire shows, displays of light, round people who had proved Their place amidst a picture, new, their face amidst the crowd Space for glittered scripture, skewed, … confetti cannons proud Fired in flirtation, fun, a shredded vibrant sea Off the reservation, run is where I long to be Still maybe when the rain resides, when the wind winds down In regrets the soul subsides, in “what ifs?” you can drown It boils down to sink or swim, that's really all it takes Sometimes I'm sure I'm set to win, 'fore confidence, it breaks In many pieces, scattered round, a picture broke?... complete? Confused, re-used, both lost and found, ascetic, spent... replete Gifted on a balmy night, a shroud to summer skies With fire bunnies burning bright, too bright for naked eyes A poison I drink often, still … but never for too long A beverage that softens will, a will restrained and strong Yet memories of green blue pools, can hold a mind enthralled These old things? She queries, calls, marking time asked, stalled As twin tides pull me deeper thence, 'neath waves of beats and sound Lost amidst a sea of tents, … I pray I'm never found |