Fences

I came across the rotting fences known for their sharp edges
consumed of putrid embalming of dead rodents.
Diseased and sick distressed blood on cement trailing to
the rusty switchblades sticking out of cultivating soil.
Sadness overcomes me like the limpid grass trying to grow in small circles as if to
stay together and rise above the unconquerable circumstances.
I walk away perplexed and estranged to the odd world we
end up decomposing in.
For the deterioration of our limbs mimics the fences in the yard
for their age and exhaustion.
I feel the ground beneath me begging to explain itself and the way
of the wicked inevitable threads of human adversity.

Written for my grandmother. RIP

You can find me in the silences between your thoughts,
in the landing of many cascading rain drops.
Through the hallows of the walls, in the stillness of the room.
between a word and a whisper, in a flower just abloom.
I dance within the colors of a brush stroke so boldly placed on wood
In the fragments of a jewel where the light is understood
You can find me in the particles of a dandelion being blown to the wind
or in words never said, went unheard and once had been.
I am like a lullaby that floats through the leaves.
I come and go with freedom and ease.
When you see the sun, i am the bliss within it setting
For i am here, always here and will forever be transcending.