Of Zombies and Cellos

Been wandering this life
for quite a long while
looking for something rare
to merit the endless miles
And stumbling along the spine
of a serpent masquerading
as highway
I heard a cello’s sublime
notes
floating
from deep in the woods
while vacant eyed
zombies gassed up their
late model rides
and chain saws
at the corner store
for their trip to
the city
to carve out their
bloody living
and I paused . . .
as I often do
when I hear a cello
in the woods
and suddenly
I understood
If the sun rises
and the sun sets
and you are blessed
to hear a cello
in the woods
then life is as good
as it gets

See No Evil

There is a wolf in the sky
In truth, there are two
Both purple and black
as a bone break bruise

It is not rain they bring
Nay, a far harder thing
is loosed

But what does it matter?

What use making a show?

The abused and the tattered
already know and the
ignorant
choose
to remain so

Both eyes tightly closed

Name Change

Yes, this used to be the Dragonfire blog, but I changed the name to Odin’s Bard – since he has the mead of poetry I’m trying to get 😉 So, that’s why you see likes and comments from a name you haven’t seen before. Peace!

Objects In Mirror Are Closer Than They Appear

I’ve felt this way before
and survived
yet I am still frightened
frightened by many things
now
that I’m older
little things
mainly
big things
I still handle with
the fearless grace of
those days when I was certain that
nothing
would ever get me
now
I know something will
likely
some little thing
I won’t see
coming
because I traded
immortality
for
wisdom

Seasonal Lover

She finally arrives
Breezing into
the room in her
flowing
windswept
dress
Hair
a mess,
refusing
to address
my inquiries
as to why
she arrived
not quite
a fortnight
behind
and before I
can speak my mind
she wraps herself
around me
So delightfully
fresh I forget
about time
Everything
is suddenly fine
The wait is over
“Welcome back,
October”

The Wheels on the Bus Go Round-and- Round

Right now
down
some side street
as I sit watching
Directv
someone is pushing
a shopping cart
full of treasures
Trash
they have gathered
Smoking butts scrounged
from the ground
Living the unrehearsed life
of a survivor
Fine
in their own
mind
Unconcerned
with time
and what the
world thinks
Living on the brink
their comfortable
routine
and what of
you and me?
Striving to achieve
Believing
it matters
That our name
will outlast us
but we’re all
on the same
bus ride to
nothing
Sisters and brothers
judging each other
over the location
of our seat
Don’t believe it
The seat won’t
be regarded
when it’s your
stop
Find some peace
It’s all we’ve
got that means
anything