Taken like a whisper
Fingers barely dragging
As they scrape the dust,
Unsettling settlements of taste.
Gagged and bound by ill fated regrets
Weighing in as milestones
Sinking with each breath
That tries to rise against.
Unconventionally sound advice
Softly lingers still
Like wet footsteps on linoleum
Tracked in from the snow.
As bitter flakes of northern fury
Cling where others fall
And mingled tears end rapture
Of uncommon contempt.
The scent of wilted fuchsia
And faded poppies,
A delayed high
Too far gone for escape.
Moonlit Poetry 