That won’t endure
The anger of a page
Left bare,
Or silence
That shouts its truth
At night
Without your being there.
I hate ghosts
And summer shadows
Over roads
Opaque as glass,
Dark skies
And storms
Severing lines,
That prolong a dark impasse.
Nothing prepared me
For this austerity—
To deny myself
And hide my need;
There’s a lie
That gives life,
And lamentably, a lie
Meant to deceive;
And then there’s my lie
Of false hope,
Spawned simply
So I can breathe…
In myths and dreams
I fan my needs
With sparks
That kindle love,
And struggle nights
To understand
The hidden plans of God.