R.I.P.
by
Maggie Shurtleff.
2/02
the wind whistles through this field
as if nothing were here to distract his plight
the sun scours the earth with his scorching satisfaction
yet I remain here cold- untouched
the moon fills the sky with her delight
but my eyes mirror only darkness
you walk by with your sweet smells teasing
as if you knew I was restlessly resting
if only I could inhale all their beauty
I would get up from this shallow grave
and rest in peace
among the living.
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Rising
by
Maggie Shurtleff.
2/02
morning slowly envelopes evening
with quiet tenderness
midnight blue, fades
into non-existence
the sun rises
blanketing the golden fields
with warm intentions
the clouds race towards
a boundless finish line
in the heavens
the wind silently caresses
all of God’s wonders
without reservation
my shell finds solace
in its return to earth
my soul lies here
Still
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