Numbed

No Song To Me In The Numb Hours ~ Kenia Cris

I ran out to the trees

They stood silent grey

In the waning light of dusk

Hiding my nakedness, I saw

A sign “reserved”  painted

On a shiny chair, so I took

   

My paper and pen, and wrote

Of bridges I have burnt  

Of lips I have kissed

Of boat cruises I want to take

Of ice-capped mountains I see  

It was not enough

To quiver the leaves

To soften dry bark

To mend tired limbs

To seed crushed roots

So I folded my words

Into a paper boat

And left it for the trees

To dream of the sky and sea.

Posted for Imaginary Garden with Real Toads:   The Sunday Challenge- Featuring Kenia Cris

Shared with Poets United

Picture credit:   Kenia Cris