Poetry

Dead Reckoning

Six words in the spring wind

whispers of an old memory

a ray, hopefully redemption

Tears, broken grey skies

On clouds resembling amethysts

He walks away into retribution

glad to be of help

glad to be here

aren't you glad, aren't you glad

we had this talk?

Brake a door, curtain calls

third time, charming as ever

hope springs eternal

don't drink that water

Let it flow, fade away

If you still care, flow

Back to back

here to yonder, the smiting

Disappear once more

with the salty foam

Wash away in the yellow sun

never to fly again

Right on cue, the disappearing act

Fade into the cypresses

Lost in the forest

Memories of the summer we never celebrated

Eyes twitching, eyebrows raised

That last chord you never saved for me.

Samuel Valdes Lopez