Perle Champion

ever felt on the
brink, not sure the brink of what
the abyss beckons

edges rough worn thin
mind that races rushes in
angels watch in awe

not quite sure they saw
halos doffed no wind for wings
grounded and unsure

poetry is a
piece of soul sung out loud to
the absent crowd and
protests injustice
shares interior landscape
poems, blues, rock, rag

things pass from knowledge

the ways, calendars, ciphers

the truths of a time

without a context

just artifacts dug from dirt

puzzles to our eyes

alter egos, shades

mirrored to infinity

dreams there and not there

shadows echo through

walking parallel paths

she dug the hole deep
walls of dirt on every side
still, no place to hide

simple yellow rose
lay low the mighty soldier
praise sung by lone star

the priceless vase slipped
oh the pieces, the pieces
let it slip- grasp failed

oh where to begin
shards scattered in darkest night
too few pieces found