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Click hereReality and memory mixed, once sharp lines on a white board, the divide no longer visible
Blue-flamed days of disassociated nothingness, empty hours demanding a guilt against time.
Days move forward, the mind frozen, a helter-skelter leading nowhere
Sharp spokes from a bicycle wheel dig into the mental skin of remembrance
To sharp to ignore, to painful to remove.
Throughout it all, white feathers fall from nowhere, a shower of calm.
Amazing writing, elegant, economic. An aching sadness salved by the aching beauty of a silent fall of nowhere feathers. . . Loved it! Well done, s.s.