The mist is a blanket
covering most of my world,
keeping all out
for now;
its salty moist air
gently touching my skin, my scars,
like a lover I once knew.
Dew on another morning.
Iām alone now.
The sea nearby is silent.
A dead bird keeps me company,
one eye watching me. Understanding
beyond death.
Breath from my mouth
warms the linen sheet on my face.
An owl is resting
on the rooftop above my head
and tells me all is well
in reassuring repeat, while
your voicemail message echoes on and on
and rain keeps pouring down like madness.
Poet's Corner 