Silver Screen

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Silver Screen.”

“Time flies.” That’s what all the people ┬ásay.

It matters not where you plan on going or where you think you’ll stay,

it matters not where you were last week or where you’ll be next year,

it matters not where your demons hide or where you’ve shed your tears.

It matters not where you’ve planted your dreams or where you think you are.

All that matters are the hands you hold as you gaze up at the stars.

So as time recedes before your eyes like the ocean swallowing the shore,

take the time to gaze at thoughtless clouds, wending across the sky and just breathe…

Advertisements

The Coathanger

I am a coat hanger.
I have fingers which have graced cheeks, laced with tears;
feet which carry me through orgastic stillness and oppressive noise,
nerves which pulse and glow with life,
I have eyes which hold a thousand galaxies and wayward shoulders.
I am the universe in ecstatic motion.
But for now, I am a coat hanger.