She was cold, as time old, she cuddled into her mother for warmth and need

Seed of the father screams at a typewriter singing its song of fate

Keep a silence in perspective range, nothing waits forever.

Not a writer, not a poet, not a reporter, a daughter wasted

Speaks goals left hard

Come from the winner to the wishful side of light

I am perfect in surrender

I am love in your night

Shill of retribution

Hangs height his day

And the want of never

Will pass from here  this day

Watch shadows play in harmony, ghosts of past lovers crowding out

Today’s reality seeking a heart to sleep in, a bed to dream in, a family to love

Sad refrain on shadows realign a game of hide to seek, ceiling playing tag

On a mattress begging rest

Nudge of sun breaking takes a trust enter in a voice playing a birth sonnet, fall all yew who seek life and accept death as a perfect retreat from war left unfinished

Father restless spirit on an endless writes, tries and tries

Cold coffee mixed with brandy serves a breakfast lingering past dread

Two on a dime, a third in compassion at typewriter asking for, no demanding

Attention, destroyed a single shot

Lovers stop for a visit but no one is home again