Sometimes, when I need to be alone, I find myself wandering out into the
desert. To that place where it turns rocky, the whole world shades of
red.

This is a poem, I wrote out there, after today.


LONELY FOR NO. 1

When words are mostly
What we have between us,

Like glue sticking places
far away together, we must

Remember the weight in our
words. In our different
worlds. Reminds me

of autumn, when the leaves dry
and drift down from
the maples. Sedentary

in motion.



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While I recognize that free-form abstract poetry is not very well
recognized in the masses, it is my personal favorite. Read it softly,
and slowly, sounding out each syllable carefully, and you have read it
the way it was meant to be read.

Comments, as always, are welcome.

-J

Penned by my hand on the 15th of Tenebrae, in the year 514 AD.