to only hold what once we held…
‘in silence’
make theatre of this vow
a complex game of illusion
stage squeezed out from lungs
our old science exhausts the cells
we fell gracefully as children
while an astral lamp accused us
of life now seeking peace
we pencil ourselves
with sharpened expressions
thoroughbreds, the slightest hitch
all but derailing us.
*
#barflypoet
#josephapinto
© Joseph A. Pinto
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'dead bird,' 'From My Front Steps,' 'Scotch and Scars' and 'A Distilled Spirit' poetry collections available in paperback and ebook on Amazon.
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