Another Little Poem

She lingers through the empty halls of her own mind

The silk of her nightgown picking up dust as it drags along the floor

She passes rooms filled with memories

Memories of ribbons and curls

First kisses and first loves

Rooms of things she has lost And rooms of things she has willingly given away

Rooms filled with the faces of people who sincerely have touched her life

And others whom she has touched

People she loved and people who loved her back

The hall stretches onward seeming to never end

Forward and forward she moves

Gliding across the wooden panels like an angel gliding along the heavens

Until, finally, she sees the end and sadly welcomes it

She knows what this means

She understands

And as she steps through the finale cherry wood door at the end of the hall her internal sun sets

A Little Poem.

The Night is dark and calm

As I lay in bed staring up at the dotted, white, bland ceiling above me

My eyes chase the ceiling fan in that same circular motionOver, and over, and over

Until, ever so slowly, that familiar feeling begins to sink its claws into my tender flesh

I can feel my eyes become heavy, like the weight on my heart

My mind stills and suddenly I am at peace as I drift

Drift silently onto the night

Silently into a deep sleep

And leave my pain for another day