a poem

written in response to Mr.O'Donohue and prompt #5 at the aeolian harp.....

the fog

i wrap myself in layers of bravery,

woven of ink and moonlight.

i walk the mists of unknown journeys;

 the wending, pot-holed  footpaths in the 

midnight forest of my soul.

but despite how well i cloak my heart against

   the doubtful night and seeping dark,

still, the cruel tendril'd fingers grope

 and creep

through the cracks and folds

of paper courage

and leave me

shivering, 

small,

  and alone.

the aeolian harp - #3

one of the Somethings i wrote for the current prompt over here.

~*~

memoria

they drift through

the waking death

of half-places.

sorrow and laughter

mingle in remembrance

of a life in chains

and a soul set free.