poetry & things

Mourning winds

I am lost in mourning winds, a desert sand drift

a dandelion wisp buried in ocean depths

an emptiness in the blue of longings

this traveling is slow mud, I trudge

blue red fields of life’s blood

the disappearing of the ones I love

they have flown far and gone

leaving me to linger

looking for the sun

the moon to come

and so I walk on

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