(c) 2022 by Michael L. Utley
(#217)
clarity sundered
in the swelter and the din
of scorched memories
…..
(#218)
fitting denouement
thoughtless birds and bitter breeze
signify the end
…..
(#219)
I behold the stars
through the blurred prisms of tears
hope is beyond reach
…..
(#220)
holes in the pockets
of my soul; I lost myself
somewhere along the way
…..
(#221)
aloof stars shine on
while constellations of lives
perish on the earth
…..
(#222)
take my hand, my friend
do not cry, do not despair
you are not alone