i remember quite clearly the night the worlds sadness as my own
pink nylon baby-doll pajamas, appliquéd blue flowers & ruching
8 yrs old, hair long & pigtailed the color of cornsilk
kneeling on my bed
pressing against screen of the open window
pressing
leaning
gazing
into the september nite
late
dark
quiet
twinkling stars
tasting the lonely despair on the end-of-summer breeze
a parade of heartache & pain leaked into my skin leaving its burn
i saw an ancient, folded & forgotten mahogany woman pacing to & fro across some cracked damp floor
a solitary soldier cold & wet loosing his humanity with every step
a frightened child with dark eyes hiding from the sharp sting of thoughtlessness
a small boney white dog not understanding how gentle hands can be
a stolen life
a fearful task
a lonely death
dante's dart landed upon my heart
no amount
of pink groovy psychedelic sunshine could stop that parade upon the fabric of my soul
so i would kneel upon my pink groovy bedspread in my pink groovy sunshine life
every nite
pressing against the darkness
gazing out
gazing up
at the stars
wishing for strength
wishing for magic
wishing for enough love to shoulder
dante's dart
