Friday, August 26, 2011


...Her sorrow bled,
Not in rivers of red
But in dark ink across the night
The tears she wept
By day were kept
In heartbeats out of sight
Life can slice
The same heart twice
Twice hearts can be broken
Her sorrow bled
Where ink-drops shed
Lost years of words unspoken



  1. It is going to take a long time to read all your poetry, but writing such as this is why I must.

  2. Thank-you Mike,

    This is one of the rare time's I held on to a piece without publishing it...until now. I wrote it a few months ago...afraid of its vulnerability:)

    Someone once told me if I simply write words that people expect...
    if I refuse to ...bleed...on a page,it will lack an element of authenticity. This was one of those times I bled...

  3. ...confession...I have a small 'stash' of bleeding that I am not bold enough to share...yet:)


Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!