where did they go
those cunning demons disguised
as the sweetest little birds
softly waking you
from an early morning
midsummer dream
as if to say everything
will work itself out just fine
as long as you trust
in their ways
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I don’t know you
I swear I don’t
and if anyone asks me
that’s what I’m going to say
coming of age
arrived with grave discipline
void of emotional reasoning
and resisting to speak
for fear the scabs in our throats
may heal
I wasn’t asked to the dance
but away I danced
well past midnight
my partner the waning moon
leaning me over the stream
sometimes I forget
you are still here
even though you’ve been gone
forever
and whenever I carelessly tell
others I don’t know you
I am labeled a liar
and publicly shunned
february two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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