Something For Emily

I understand the isolation,

   what others call being alone

 

I understand the silent moments,

   the inner freedom to roam

 

I understand the derision,

   and the label of being called strange

 

With each new dawn I most understand

  —the joy in not being the same

 

(Train To Center City Philadelphia: January, 2015)

The Line

Conduit of the human spirit

I forced hope into the cord

Draining the tears of

The lost and abandoned

Plugging into outlets

Of forgotten promise

Forcing their light

Onto the dark barren screen

Charging into what

I had charged over before

  —crossing the line

  —crossing the line

 

(Villanova Post Office: January, 2015)

 

Anonymity

Are you obligated

To retain

The verses you write,

Or do you systematically

Release

What no longer can survive

Unnamed,

As they mark the trail

Of their exit

With letters penned in

Judgment

That you no longer own,

Memory forming

An ancient speech pattern

Waiting silent and distant

For new words to create

An even newer anonymity

  —where truth may be found

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: December, 2014)