Sonnets from the Swamp

capitol

When We Lost Our Way

Fair and foul, night stalkers
steal the breath of believers.
Wrapped in grey shrouds
dreams come and go
unrealized

Pages of  history,
scanned with blinking eyes,
reveal no truths.
Lies abound
lying around like careless litter.

When we whistle in the wind
no one hears the song
or remembers the melody.
We shudder at the sight of soundless lips
still puckered,
as if from a fleeting kiss.

One comment

  1. Gene,

    I can not believe my eyes!

    THE Gene right here at the Pub.
    Thank you!

    and thank you for this poem. Perfect timing
    with the upcoming midterm.

    Aside from the politics, the poetry is honed
    to precision.

    “Fair and foul, night stalkers
    steal the breath of believers”

    The sounds, the pace, the atmosphere, all
    products of a magic pen. A pen that has been
    sorely missed.

    Once again, Thank you!

    sarah

    Like

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