Mauerpark In Spring

Ashes from last night’s performance are blown from the stage of stone as the aluminium gears flow by like chariots. The air is adorned with loneliness and malice because of it. The beaks peck up every last grain and every last drop of the meagre offerings of the rubble.
The sun will still shine after the ash has been blown into the ground.
The children will still smile
And the derro’s will still dream of a heroes welcome.
For on this day, we seem to forget the blatant past if only for a moment and we rejoice in the timeless beauty that the future may bring us.

She Loves You No Less

The Beginning

Beginnings have no limits.
As the old pair huddle over used beer crates,
like young lovers under grey clouds. Flashing by with a flick of the head, a corner of the eye, a chance happening. No hearts will be dropped, no voices heard, no memories made. Not a soul will feel the questions and memories in their eyes, as they connect and stare. All that will be remembered by their stained minds is the beginning of it all and the beleaguered perfect beauty within. For when the tears are shed, the soil will not console. All they will have. A beginning.