shades of us

the poemstarter raised barely enough for a coffee but sometimes less was more than enough

the battle was unseen by most: the slight tug on a leash, entering a door first, sitting so slowly testing boundaries for the future deciding who was In Charge and the human laughing pulling on the lead understood little but there was more than a bark and truth would come out the pack could have one leader will battling against will only one side aware of the war

ducks in the pond only a single duck now waiting for hope against sorrow water clear and empty

she wondered if a butterfly wanted to caterpillar again retreating to a simpler life held a strangled yearning even at the loss of flight

the novel had no ending revisions piled on revisions he turned to poetry then hoping for a few stark lines but saw a poetry event the poet editing as they spoke in a book already published

stretched too far past breaking the meta a four becomes a five a six seven eight eating nine until nothing remains at all

and the toy that was destroyed paved the way for another to be added to an overflowing box – a metaphor but also the way of the world

the monsters did not wear suits and ties not always sometimes a concerned friend sounding almost sensible in terrible views testing the limits of the world casually with half-truths passed off as only joking waiting for your laughter as an admission waiting for proof you were the same as them not needing bites nor blood nor charm to infect another and another and another

the lies were easily wrapped in truth every wrapping is meant to conceal presents that Santa never bought you gifts that were second-thought at best

i kept your picture in my wallet not understanding how we'd grown apart but you said it was simple with a smile so bitter it felt like a stranger you said i loved the person you had been in the photo and not the person that you were now that we put make pictures of those we love and hold them tighter than the real person and i wanted to sat you were wrong but they were crow's feet and hair i did not remember and I looked at you seeing someone i almost didn't know and i whispered sorry but it was a whisper and far too late at all

the change wasn’t coins banished for reasons economic so credit was left lightly dystopian all that changed remained the same

i wrote three poems about the Nothing trying to grasp where you were & why you’d left us

the rain was a promise that the world changed he said smug with truth forgetting about floods and storm drains and how too much truth could ruin as easily as far too many lies