sipping
lethe
in an effort
to
eradicate
these images
that dance
behind
fluttering
eyelids
seeking
short term
memory
loss
in the
flood
of all the
hopeless
incidental
thoughts
that carry
the scent
of cold winds
disturbing
the fresh green
on the branches
shivering
in morning sun
spring has
sprung
even as
lady winter
clings
in the nighttime
of heartache
and obscured
images
hovering
in soulglitter
madnesses.

the scent
of
forget me dos
hangs heavy
as the
world
fades
just another
nightmare
holding tight
to the
back
of my brain
in these
sleepless
dawns
promising
the seas will
settle
as silt
piles over
my gasping
nothing
seashells
ground to sand
still hold
the sound
of the waves
diluting
the rays of
the sun
too far above.