Monthly Archives: November 2012

Three Thin Branches

Down the wood path
under loam and leaf
three thin branches lie
a crossroads for tattered ghosts
beneath a cradling sky
Curling in twig fingers
to pluck a slender chord again
this music softly swells, then goes
as stuffed on worm-kissed acorns
come a trio of staggering crows
Give the gift, unburdened be
brittle white they breathless wait
to recall they bear no breath
as wind slips down the mountainside
to bear them into death

~ ~ ~

© W.R.R. 11/28/2012
For all survivors of any form of rape or abuse; you are not alone. Speak out. Find your path to healing.

Wind and Rust

One lone post
metal eye bolt rusts
long gone tattered rope
frayed knot clings
beneath it, nothing grows
sand so smooth
dust devils curl
each grain that settles knows
Beyond the new fence
where old fence fell
rusted chains still creak
swayed by wind
the little seats
like children, rot away
Towering ladder on pipes
metal slide winks in the sun
screech and cry, the rust protests
as flat round circle spins
beams of light through wanton holes
dappled dancing sins
Mold eats plastic
forms blackened tears
of horses gaunt and wild
the wind can’t move them
on rusty springs
they never care
how the chorus sings
or rain that weeps
and wets the grass
swallow fear
this too shall pass
Lure of joy
trap of pain
the little echoes play
don’t look back at the boundary wall
where silent bricks remain

~ ~ ~

© W.R.R. 11/29/2012
For all survivors of any form of rape or abuse; you are not alone. Speak out. Find your path to healing.

Libby’s Song

As autumn paints fire on leaves
and chill wind blows them, gently
to rest on still clear water
like minute ships
I watch them drift away
Thoughts turn to her
delicate and strong
fearless as leaves in November
As one more falls to join in
the procession whispers
giving me her blessing
as twenty-two tiny ships
silently make their way along

Strength defined her all her days
as she made plenty out of want
when no winds of autumn held gifts
embroiled in the fires
of war and barren
Yet her life came full circle
in the gift of words to me
numerous as fiery woodland leaves
and cloaked in mystery and wonder
So few are left in years of grief
the few that fall, they tremble
as tears cling to lashes
leaves cling to branches
until gentle wind persuades them

The song in the wind still holds it
the precious gift of her laughter
following the breathless hunt
of a tiny girl who runs
salt shaker clutched in eager hand
in pursuit of gloriously indifferent birds
They flit and twitter even now
among the leaves
remembering as I do
this gentle woman with the strength
to move fiery leaves to fall
so they might seek to find
the bright singing dreams
her laughter stirred
deep in the heart of all who heard

~ ~ ~

© W.R.R. 11/22/2012
For Elizabeth, Libby; grandmother of the sister of my heart, upon the day that marked her birth. I didn’t know her, but I understand that pain. Peace to all who grieve for beloved ones lost.

Into the Fray

Pain, sharp and breathless
fight for air
untouched but violated
all over again
with no one near
Sounds and smells
invade with pain
the hated feel of being filled
held down, terrified
with the old tastes rising
mixed with the bile
of the present lie
the ghost of the old horror
When it passes
left bereft of will
destroyed in a pool
of fluids, of blood from bitten tongue
as reality, the oldest lie
crawls back up
on shaking legs
These moments
as the soul, the sanity
begin to fray
there is no defense
no succor
as today is eclipsed
and drowned in yesterday

~ ~ ~

© W.R.R. 11/19/2012
For all survivors of any form of rape or abuse; you are not alone. Speak out. Find your path to healing.

If you suffer from flashbacks, you aren’t alone. Research the term, or talk to a therapist; knowledge is power.