Poetry – Page 3 – STORIES OF THE 504

Forbidden

“What business here?” I asked with fear,

“Why give me aggravation?”

“It’s time,” she said, “to clear your head

of vile self-adulation!”

You hang on to my memory

like a rosary, marking each layer

with a reverent rub of the thumb.

Silence fills each passing day

I wonder where my people stay

I long for footsteps, breath and dreams

The salty tears, the happy screams

i trusted him
he kept me
from the
buzzards
and the
coyotes hanging ’round

I’m looking into

the nest of my soul

and the home of my heart