Wooden steps creak as piano keys
Playing tunes to tendons aching
From days stretched across lifetimes,
Pulling memories like an old man’s toothless grin
Smiling at me.
Peeling paint curls,
Once buried like bones turned to dust,
Still revealing secrets.
I pull the shades to shut out glaring
Rays of doomed dreams,
Or, to hold in truths that rage like desert winds.
Cradles, empty, of children
now cradled in the grave.
And, children had,
Bled tears from open wounds,
Father never saw.
Cracked linoleum, pleading attention,
Ravishes footsteps seeking solace,
Tripping hope like a tumbleweed
Struggling against barbed wire on the plain.
Bleached sheets on the line against dark skies,
Seeking purity over sins done and undone.
A frayed calico dress hangs blowing in the wind.
Artwork by Sarah (Sally) Lurty
© 2016 Sandra Fox Murphy. All rights reserved.