approaching winter

my words meant something
but you chose to hear
the accompanying leaves falling
the inevitable part of autumn
that soon passes
clearing the way
for magnificent snowflakes

i walk in cold morning air
mesmerised by fresh tomorrows
showing my breath to
sun and passing vehicles
words traveling
down the same sidewalks
as those days when
my words meant something

i slip on
maroon leather gloves
with silver buckles
pull up faux fur-trimmed hood
tighten scarf
and with gratitude for their warmth
concentrate on the current story
one of smiles and tears
hope and comfort
whole heart rising
to a place where
destiny is kind, forgiving and paramount

by mary ann blinkhorn

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a moment’s awareness

i proceed along

a mind’s dense fog

until its thick footprints drop

down down down

onto a clay street below

like being sold short

half-story residing

in half shadows

the rest eaten for breakfast

twelve hours ago

or trapped within a breath

or quietly misunderstood

lingering patiently behind a

never-developed third eye

connected to a heart

across the street

a little dog yaps

in solid hours

chases passersby

he’s always alone, that one

by mary ann blinkhorn

please don’t

a barn collapses

leaving only a harsh wind

same winds as before

beyond diminished

 

but wait

how fair is this to the writer

he who pored through mind’s memories

with empty writing instrument

gut-ink pouring from heart

 

would he have said it differently

more eloquently to your faces

i think not

 

 

by mary ann blinkhorn