listen carefully my love
for I shall be whispering
the words that vibrate
through the air
shaped by the moon
& the crow
& the trees standing
tall on the boulevard
do not grieve my love
when the moon
loses its mystery
or the crow delivers
its last waltz
or the trees standing
tall on the boulevard
take their final bow
september two thousand twenty-three
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
there is tension
and then it goes away
no explanation
you sit back & look
for a new way in
there has to be a treasure
down there somewhere
you mark the spot in your brain
and you fly away
so many times I’ve been
destroyed
but you always come back
digging me up
from the grave
this world has always been
white & blue & black
the latter near perfect
in its execution
october two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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