Category: Poetry

a sickle of hazy moon
haunts the night sky,
a dark breeze holds the air.
behind me the city shimmers
in fluorescents and gold.
      I wonder if I'll miss it
      when I go?

I saw the stars blinking
against the black sea
of early morning -
I thought they were plane
               and maybe they were -
but whatever they were, 
they reminded me
I was small
and they showed me
               what was beautiful
and told me not
to get so caught up
I forget to look up;
to unplug and see
the beauty surrounding me;
to enjoy it because time
is short and the stars
will not always be backlit
               by the sunrise -
in time they will be shadowed
               by the sunset.

This life is so precious,
time so tender, we drive
to earn - yearn for more -
and recognize the drain
on our life and time;
tomorrow we'll start
making the change
into who we want to be,
but today we've wasted
the burst on who we are -
there is satisfaction there -
but more frustration
at not getting ahead
to where we want to be,
so we strive but we're tired,
and satisfied - comfortable -
and scared of uncertainty,
but certain in our circumstance,
we plunge into each new day
with hope we'll break the cycle
because maybe, tomorrow.