a painted breeze, by Mark Page

Mark Page

a painted breeze

seeps through the trees

and whispers of its load

fences awake

no sound to make

solemn silent code

the lawyer the baker

all heartbreakers

switch from normal mode

to swim the lakes

with frogs and snakes

down on lavender road

a lone despair

wisps the air

subconsciously to goad

without a thought

a lesson taught

slips some foreign node

the dumb, the bright

all sleep at night

in wooden brick abode

unlike the stars

who hide from cars

down on lavender road

Other works by Mark Page...

in the country for the winter

in the country for the winter the ice sleeps on the pond the geese are slowly swaying as the cold does drive them on i am listening for some one

i was not

i was not a beautiful boy i was not an angry young man i am not

slipped stars crowd the evening

slipped stars crowd the evening full moon looking on aimlessly driving, caressing imploringly passion condenses on car windows

i am nothing

i am nothing i am no one a wisp of dream which never will come true distant thoughts

and i said goodbye

and i said goodbye to the crystalline dream whence i was a poet, and she a queen while the rest feel few

i am lost

i am lost in secret keeping i must end the shadow’s sleeping tear my heart away

between the blades of summer grass

between the blades of summer grass where morning dew and spiders pass i left a dream that i once knew a vision of the green and you beneath the red and raisin clays

a sound falls from forever

a sound falls from forever to my ear a train across the trestle on the river you may listen

take yourself between the trees

take yourself between the trees and find the paths out to the sea stumble through the thorn and bria… that cut you face

they trade their addictions

they trade their addictions for brass coins and coffee the saints’ names and numbers they tape

the electric motor spoke to me

the electric motor spoke to me of fear of one known just by we as if the world could hear the dro… on hot summer nights

you dance like some

you dance like some falling star appearing closer than you actually are before you fade out from my sight

tracks

tracks into the night beneath the moon reveal no light reflect no pain

Mark Page

a painted breeze

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Other works by Mark Page...