Poetry Archives

Hard Decision

I long for the lilac-scented air.
I look for lowly dandelions strewn
Like a mighty hand scattered them there.
There's only a frail memory of fresh cut lawns.
I walk and watch the shadows cast down...
Blotting out the streetlight my future dawns.

As I shoulder both the past and present,
A sudden bark of mongrels chime.
What cannot be seen is sent
Stumbling against the wholeness of my life.
I fight against the act I will soon do...
Tearing my throat upon unspoken strife.

Quihadi