The Girl Who Waits at the Edge of the Tracks
I keep her ghost as if she were my own and though I never knew her I can feel her stirring within my bones, can hear the whispered breaths of her calling the secrets of our lost flesh home 7/6/2017 Debbie Berk rev 8/15/2017 Image created using stock photos from 123rf along with one of…
The Warrior
It is through the distance of the deepest darkness slow and long that I find the dawn touching the face of hope as I trace the shadows and the shape of one more scar searching the edges or the center of the light that shines, guides from the fight of the flame ever burning within…
Self Portrait, the Light and the Dark Half
“Because beauty is not always beautiful but mostly flawed and brief in its moments of glimpsed light at the right angels beyond the shadows of an unseen darkness”
Midnight Dreamer
Dark as the night the moon in her eyes and poetry in her veins all mystery and bold a warrior and fallen angel full of pain an untamed spirit like a gypsy she roams letting her dreams guide the way, finds redemption in the words, lets them speak until the loss and the ache of…
Eulogies of Love
The words, they come like memory distant as the dawn waking within dreams whispering like grief and again the sorrows speak remembers the shadows that do not sleep, restless and deep in their longings black as the night where even the black birds weep for the ghosts already gone and still those yet to be…
The Dark
New poem and drawing (lame, I can’t draw but whatever) This will be the opening poem for the next issue of The Stray Branch, Fall/Winter 2017 which I have recently begun work on.
It Watches……
A short story I glimpsed again the shadow, heard the sound once more, a faint, desperate cry……distant. There was a knock at the door, no one there. Turning away from the window I hear the crash of breaking glass and I could almost feel the sting of a freshly cut wound, the warm blood…
In this living that is not…
all that is left of the sacred are the sorrows lost to the mourning shadows of shame in the deep wounds of knowing of no tomorrows to come, of hearing no callings of death beyond, no voices of hope, not one to welcome us home but only the silence of a whispered prayer screaming into…
the Invitation of the Uninvited
The day is gray and silence save for the soft whispers of the slow moving shadows that so inviting they sway dancing like the swirling smoke of extinguished flame dare I beg them stay, join in as the distant sound of music now hauntingly plays like the echo of a long lost voice calling…
