Storm on the horizon

I shudder to think
What shakes the foundation

Long after

A whirlwind adventure passes

This house sitting empty
Though it’s not its fault
The vault is full
Of empty promises
In the shape of wine bottles
Corked with air

(leftovers from last spring)

I reach out in the cellar for light
Clutching darkness
Empty handed
(A few times)
Before catching hold of the metallic string

This bright idea
Taking hold
at instantaneous speed
The one singular constant
In an otherwise chaotic world

Man has many ideas
not all of them are bright

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: