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| awyn art |
Isis the goddess gets a candle lit in her honor
by a newly initiated young witch
crafting healing spells when the
novenas failed,
while ISIS the terrorbringers storm fist-thrusted
'cross gun-swept
sands -
caravan style -
caravan style -
in identical new Toyotas.
In a dark, rented room
a lonely man in a faded armchair smokes a borrowed
cigarette,
wondering where his life went.
In a loft, a frustrated painter
hurls his prized ivory paintbrush at the wall,
its splattered flecks bringing unexpected
inspiration.
"At
last!"
At the BookFair, a writer bemoans his perennial
unpublishedness.
Leaves with a pocketful of
scribbled hopes.
Leaves with a pocketful of
scribbled hopes.
In the suburbs, a woman slips into her nightdress, aglow -
the letter that brought forgiveness within reach
on the night table, wedged between
the jar of pink face cream and her
chipped porcelain pillbox.
“I am loved.”
A child looking out a school bus window
witnesses a brief act of kindness;
hasn’t yet learned that big word called ‘empathy’
but instantly knows its opposite,
suddenly arm-pinched by the bully in front.
A soldier looks death in the eye and gets a reprieve,
his life forever changed.
Everywhere, a story
and stories behind the stories
behind the stories -
too many unwritten,
untold or
unheard.
~~ A.W.
~~ A.W.
