owls

all are night owls
with this sort of thing,
trying for flight.

you’d think
those of us who’ve

weathered

would be territorial,
ruffle our feathers,
restless.

truth be told,
so few take wings, and
we enjoy the company
of those who try.

Just Yet

It’s been so long, WordPress changed format and I can’t use it anymore. Let’s hope that dry spell is over…

–

There are words, that I
cannot say,
just yet.

They are held back
by a small grin
not quite a smirk,
and filled with the fullness
learned from 5 years of
breaking and growing,
growing and breaking.

Tamed by your shoulders,
my head pillowed there
confesses what I can’t,
and the roundness of
my iris walls
speaks for me once in a while.

I steal words
in stolen glances,
and pilfer luck to let you know
for now,

because

there are words
that I can’t say, just yet.