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Friday, February 22, 2019

Anguish






It falls within 
enlightenment's 
closing line,

 when morning has passed 
and the noon sun
dimmed.

 No moon rise 
brightens spirit 
when the dull ache 
of lost affection

 inflicts its prick
upon fresh wound.

 Veiled threat
cloaks despair
when the heart weeps 
a sour smile.




February 22,2019
© Pamela A. Lamppa, 
All rights reserved
Posted by at No comments:

Feeling New






Middle C vibrates
against my forefinger.

 It rings for yesterday
and bleeds faithfully
into tomorrow 

 with you there, 
near the window,
regarding me.

 Our years have
grown accustomed
to our faces;

 life's traces and 
blusters born to 
moments shared in the
dim twilight 
of ancient lore.

 Here we are, as one;
older, wiser, and 
feeling new. 

February 21,2019
© Pamela A. Lamppa, 
All rights reserved 
Posted by at No comments:
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