Reaching

Blown by foreign winds,
These leaves rustle among troubled strangers.
All of them are Nameless and Unfamiliar,
Trembling because the cold is unrelenting and the warmth absent.

Crying with morning dew,
This window’s view is muddled by tears
And daylight can only shine through distorted,
However persistent, praying for us to believe in its resolve.

This landscape is dying and a message is pending.
And danger colors these words that need sending.
And danger colors these wounds that need mending.
And danger colors only in red scarlet while this town remains far from painted.

When the images surface,
Memory brings a quiet message,
Tempered in textures only felt through these fingertips
That once caressed the warmth of her ripe body,
But now shiver at the touch of cold, wet glass.

Blown by foreign winds,
These leaves rustle among troubled strangers.
All of them are Nameless and Unfamiliar,
Reaching because the cold is unrelenting and the warmth gallivant.