Missing Pieces

‘I don’t mind a little darkness
but I’ve had more than there’s a right to be…’

detached

vapid wishes drift…

On translucent pins
________ knitted from scales
I tread lightly

“If it smells right, we’re gonna eat it. Cave folk are more clever than those elite prats up top give us credit for, by golly…”

trees dream of touching

Burr oaks and sugar maples
ancient, barrel-chested sentries
staunchly line

Feed the writer…

Emptiness crowds

into crevices once

overflowing with you —

Boredom, anxiety, fear. This is not the ideal cocktail of emotions we want to be sipping when it comes to getting

The silent moth unbidden flies

from the cornered shadows

of my bedroom