poetryrepairs #240 v17.08:088

CHARLOTTE OZMENT : Bethink
CHARLOTTE OZMENT : Human Patterns

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CHARLOTTE OZMENT
Bethink

Eyes gone to the expanse vaguely focused on the mirror before me The window aft, reflected in an external view turned inward to open traces of the past Curtains billow obscuring, then clouding But for moments, a clarity The curtain shifts. . . . Then there, there is a memory - A wistful child bewildered, alone uncomprehending no one to succor no one to hold - Breeze blowing leaves softly swaying, whispered through an orchard full of hope Lolling in the shaded grass dreaming a tomorrow - A smile, a laugh pure joy unadulterated freedom abandon, Oh, feel the abandon - A loss, so finite so vast, eternal as to make you want to follow in its wake - Connections, friends and loves enter, then leave the vista always leaving. . . . always, away and turning The longing to go back leaving the now, to former reminders so strong and deep, misplaced But for one step, desired. . .and taken . . .as the curtain caresses my back

poetryrepairs #240 v17.08:088





CHARLOTTE OZMENT
Human Patterns 

The sound vibrating through the medium of my dust pulsing, binding to my conscious shell of a vitality, leaking I can't grasp hold of these fleeting notes, I can't hold them close to love or hate They slip through my fingers like silk over rock too fast to pin down too fluid, they won't hesitate My thoughts skip away over input gone imperfect my moods, reflected in the silver lining of the glass of my ego, stranded And yet I see, so I am blind to the tidings received But I wait for the cue just to feel. . .just to wring every last squeeze of a gasping pitch Still, it always passes over me through me, escaping me ever, always, always. . .gone As I watch it flow in an ever expanding pattern ever farther, ever out Past my bleeding shell into the pool, into an autonomous species shallow with shadows sharp to cut

poetryrepairs #240 v17.08:088







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CHARLOTTE OZMENT keeps pen and paper handy to jot down the odd thought or two.


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