On Burnt Paper

I am a desert stranger 
filling the rooms of my house 
with my wandering presence.

Standing naked under the stars
once held an attraction for my eyes
but too often starlight blinded me.

I have been held in the arms
of nightmares of old where the winds
shook the branches of my life.

No longer do I cede such power
to the elements created by chance
at the very beginning of time.

The feeling of being complete
fills me as I write these words 
from my past down on burnt paper.

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s