Lavender

 

That shadow of yours still resides 

in the kitchen window

where the orchid used to be.

Was it pink?

I can't remember.

We'd make eye contact every time.

You greyed early.

I admire your pigment

or lack there of.

Your young face filled the window sill

with motion as I'd walk by.

Our eyes would cradle each other

for not long enough.

What if that window had been opened

and you reached out,

or my confessions came flooding into your grasp?

~Tina Meeks

Talking to Myself

 

Alone in space for peace and solitude

Voices carry over wooden frames of privacy

Only vision protected but auditory,

expected

Slender human thoughts excel through

time like lightspeed

-It's true

My thoughts have sinned

Where do I drift to in order to make something 

make sense

of the feelings that never leave

and left on the back burner?

~Tina Meeks