Indelible

Writing
With no one reading—

Crying out my soul
On the page,

Trying to still
The voices in my head

Face it—
Writing is a failing trade;

As with the face,
So with the page—

Behind every line,
Years of struggle
And pain.

I took sounds
And images

Made a tapestry
Of words,

Going on for years
Not knowing
l’d be heard.

I still love you
Down forgotten streets,

The scraps of poems
Fantasies of dreams...

I love you still
In midnight storms,

When black threads of rain
come undone...

You're written in dreams
So well-travelled

You're Indelible.