Water heals her wound
the evidence comes
as a scar blossoms in her flesh
like smoke rising
from burning leaves
it has been a long struggle
sometimes she dreams
of lying in her casket
when this nightmare is over
but for now her thoughts are clearing
maybe Jesus is turning her wine
More Sunday’s Whirligig #243
More Pantry of Poetry and Prose #7 at Poets United
Daylight, and the drunk man falls forward on his face;
He lacks a map to guide him to a better place.
Sometimes a hearth that’s spacious holds only hints of fire—
Little coals that soon grow cold like everyone’s desire.
Anywhere is nowhere when money creeps inside;
Beware when words become a place for your lies to hide.
Poems © by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Sunday’s Whirligig #210
More Poetry Pantry #448 at Poets United