Photo: Browncounty.com
Unspoken
Things, being things, are ever complex,
nothing so simple as true.
Our lives are like Ypres,
all wire and craters,
the ever defended self.
Electronic cyclones
with forgettable passwords,
ever commanding, forever shifting.
Deceptive matrices of gloom,
where anxiety reigns
over pixelated doubts.
The neighbours arguing,
profoundly, again!
The light was left on at the front.
Well, someone must pay,
this is serious (of course)
and irresponsible to the trees.
The choreography of life,
cat’s in the cradle gone wrong,
the twine’s all over the place.
Yet in the eye of this storm
we’re calm brevity,
as love is spoken without words.
©Paul Cannon
Paul,
pvcann.com
Lovely piece my brother! God bless!
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Thank you Tammy 🙂
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Sure!
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🙂
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Always an oasis to be found, even as life unravels.
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Ah, yes. We’re finding the joy of that even more these days midst the babble of the machine.
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wow
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Dry kind, as always, Kate, thanks 🙂
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Wonderfully penned!❤
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Very kind, thank you.
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Mesmerizing story! ♡
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Thank you Nasuko
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Very deep
>
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Many thanks Lyn
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Wow 😍👏
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Thank you
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