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Showing posts from May, 2019

Torn

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Sunrise turns the sky’s moonlit path into orange as I watch my lover's silhouette transform into rose flesh.
Light dances among the blackberry curls of her hair, and I wonder what visions she sees across the salt marsh.
We have torn our hearts into puzzle pieces trying to redefine what today would mean, but goodbye can never become whole.
Trapped in Poe’s haunting raven’s crow of “nevermore”  neither can let go of the obsession to twist ourselves into an impossible dream.
I don’t want to break the spell her eyes speak to the horizon, but leaving now owns the few hours we have. I don't want tears to write our memories.
 ©Susie Clevenger 2019
Margaret's challenge at Real Toads had us writing in colors. From the color list she provided I chose the following colors: Moonlit Path, (Victoria)Rose, Salt Marsh(es), Raven (Wing), Nevermore(Grey), (Violet)Obsession.

Real Toads ~ Artistic Interpretations With Margaret ~ Color It





Stone and Breath

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The spirit stores hope in eternity until darkness collects bones.
Am I here to protect the dead who lie in this field of concrete lilies or is it the living I must shield from their grief?
I stand stone carved muscle and wings, a warrior angel who can’t lift my head for the weight of tears wailing in the wind.
It is the living who war with loss. Let me be a sword for those who breathe.
©Susie Clevenger 2019
Sunday Muse #57






Middle of Nowhere

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Love drugged me with a heart high, but when the stars crashed, there wasn’t a rehab in Arizona to make me whole again. Now I’m out in the middle of nowhere trying to get the dream out of my skin.
Susie Clevenger 2019

The Sunday Muse #56

When Scissors Came

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Fledgling American Crow on Hand   photo by Robert Langham

I was born black winged vocal on the tongue of silence.
Harsh tried to teach me to fly without words, but sight isn’t deaf.
With every “hush” I grew stronger.
When scissors came to cut me from the nest, I’d already learned the language of wings.
©Susie Clevenger 2019
The Sunday Muse #54


At Light's Caution

A spring evening, coffee black without moon, plays a chorus of frog and wind chime.
A small solar light in the corner of the garden guides me to a chair, and winks its caution to remain silent.
I take my seat and give thanks for its wisdom.
©Susie Clevenger 2019
Real Toads ~ Wordy Thursday