Day 292: Hills & Valleys

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∴

we are easy to love
from over the hill,
where the grass is greener
and the sun shines, just so.

the sounds that escape
are praises sung,
and laughter rung,
and trumpets that proclaim our laurels.

but nary a noise from darker valleys
shall rise up
and over the mound.

for the gurgles we breathe
to swallow down shame
are diffident
and timid
in dales.

these sounds stay tucked at the collar
like neat bow ties
and bonnet strings
and lace the mind
as to not climb higher.

 

loose.

loose these tender nooses
that we may lay their cords
away
and move from shadowed gorges
onto well-lit ridge.

∴

 

 

 

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