Wind

Blow beneath his wings
Carry the note he sings

Whisper silence to searing storm
Calm his feuding norm

He burns in charred choices
Singed in yesteryear voices

Hands wilted and wasted
Frown faced from the hatred

Cigarette caught in faltering fingers
Halted traces of dignity lingers

He shuffles shoeless feet
Down another darkened street

Haunting hunger, absent shelter
His past writing his future

He listens for the rustle
That stills life’s battling bustle

Hoping that Hope will free
The shackles to his liberty

IMG_3753.JPG

http://www.whathope.com/

© Jill Roche, 2014
Image by Jill Roche

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s