My
tears
tear
thin air
like maple leaves
at autumn's break:
silently...
lifeless tinted bitter sweetness;
sticking,
slowly floating, falling.
imagined,
momentarily ,
on a lazy saturday afternoon.
melancholy
crushed
weighed
perceived
bowing un(der)
pressure....
moist ash attatched
to
mindless (mis) steps.
take a bit of me
with you
as you go.
pack my bag,
take my heavy load,
give me faultless wings
and guilted pleasure
in this life.
so that i may
live....
again.
yet,
i have....
no seeds (lived)
no deeds (told)
few (good)
words
to
mark my existence,
here.
take me
with you
so that i
may leave
a little
something
behind;
a bit more
than just
a prayer...
kdatylor 2006
section 8 coffee publications
all rights reserved

i got a bit of fresh air from a very welcomed voice thru cellular towers. and i want to say thank you. thanks you for always being someone i can count on.. to be honest. to be on point. to take me where i don't think i can go. you are right on many fronts. how did you get to know me so well? i will continue to take huge doses of humility and swallow pride. it will make me stronger. and while this path seems particulairly difficult, i can at times, see the tip of the mountain.... and it is so very enticing... especially on days like today. i want to pack my bags and go home... but i know, i cannot and will not go back there. i can only be my truths, and not change or try to live anothers. thanks for reminding me...

He who is being carried does not realize how far the town is. (african proverb)

thanks for pushing me, and never carrying me.... love you much.... like ac in the texas summer..

The lioness does not turn around when a small dog barks. - my mantra for the week...

live miK