No road home ...

No road home ...

No one passes through here ever stays for long

i can't even seem to catch sight of my own road home

The body hanging at the end of my own line i don't recognize

waiting for a change ― that never comes around

Fleeting through the primrose path crossroads in a blur,...

right now i'm standin' here like a brainless scarecrow all alone 

Just another familiar frost heave pothole barely shunt

swerved around like an unmarked bump

on this frozen lonesome road

i let you see it and you told me what it was ,..

but the shadow in the rear-view mirror reflects the ground 

Looking for the Black Box to unearth the cause of the crash

somewhere underneath a black and white rainbow i can't find

If you see a wayfaring stranger that abides undone

don't even stop to feel the ache that trickles down 

Just hit the gas and hold sway the wheels go round,

look off---- the dead raccoon lay sullied at the side of the road

No one passes through here ever stays for long

i can't even seem to catch sight of my own road home

The body hanging at the end of my own line i don't recognize

waiting for a change ― that never comes around

note:
"it's only water" was a moment, a concept which measured an untamed wilderness river's flow; a fleeting life chapter came and went, a not so simple soul's pseudonym for an enigmatic being trying to just let go ,.. yes, i too always dreamed of being someone else that found 

freedom from unhappiness, 

a life well lived,

because it's a long road 

tough times change,

bedevil,

undo, 

melt down ―

••• redux •••

written by: h.a. rivers ... 11 .13 .2017

writing happens ―

... put it on a piece of paper

... put it on a piece of paper

     T he clouds pulled down 

       the blinds of winter
     dimming the paling light 

          of autumn skies

       I put the lonely night 

        on a piece of paper
  the whispering wind came up 

       and blew it into dawn

With the daybreak sky painted black 

     as the writhing questions
      and the clouds as raven 

       as the night lay bare

     Now the falling rain erodes 

      the answer's simple truth
that surreally somersault through 

  the grey silence within a prayer

 A soul's writhing blood and clay 

       fight gravity's despair
     hearing the trees whisper 
        with limbs to the sky

           love has no pride

 While autumn leaves swallow 
            the wind gust 

          thence letting go ――
         wreathing upwards 

     still having the strength 

              to fly away

Like a colour from another pallet 

      blowin' in the wind
   pushed out of somewhere 

      it was never really in ...


i n the morning ... 11/09/2017

Author's Notes:

... write it on a piece of paper in the night
to see what rises from the sheets of another day,
        in the morning...

   written by: h.a. rivers ©