dying calla lilies

quiet night traffic far away
every now and then a pup yelps
a wayward bird sings outside my bedroom tree
on book table black pressed wood
furniture of wayward youth
thrift store jar where my heart lives
a pair of dying calla lilies
representatives of shifts in life
into a phone i type feelings that should have been spoken many years ago
supple tender gentle were my hands
reaching up to the hearts of men
and discovered as i pulled back empty bleeding stumps that they had no love to give me

mbrazfield (c) 2021

i’ll be in good company ii

my good friend at

Unforsenities
https://timsmind390256655.wordpress.com

added this rockin eulogy! thank you Tim 🤟

Old school class and full of brass
commanding attention with her eyes
A princess who tumbled from the stars
who phoenix-like rose again
Flaming fancy fingered magic
on ivory burned bright to the last note
A legend who lived life on his own terms
abrading our ears with his throaty roar
A giant though in stature small
who;s voice and horns pierced us all
forever they will soar together among the stars
may they alight as one on the silver mountain