– nightfall –

Don’t shed tears no more,

under moonlit skies.

My heart’s apathetic,

under dusty stars.

Don’t pace floors no more,

pond’ring earlier lies.

In the hours’ rhetoric,

peace is still too far.

 

Eating too much again,

before bedtime,

no need to pretend –

grey makes my spine.

 

This is what happens when the

owls call… a

lonely laden canvas here when

night falls.

Comfortable shouldn’t feel this

deadly, slow bleed… in

Midwest mud… oh heaven

help me, Lord please.

D.J. Whisenant

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s