Heck, I admit it, I am on Game of Thrones overload… I binge watched season 7 all day Sunday (man so much happened).  I posted a review of the new season on my media review page (shameless plug here), I thought my brain would just shut off, but just when I think the well has dried up and I am the Sahara incarnate the muse lets me know she is not quite done with me yet (for good, for bad, for worse ? I don’t know)… so I literally wrote these tonight in a fever, well, OK not in a fever, they came to me, one when I was walking Samantha (the dog, I will post photos one of these days), to be fair, she walks herself, she is 10-ish, and the second as I was washing my face, seriously, I started the second poem in my bathroom scrubbing the old face, ah, the muse, she is her own thing and she owns me…

you are my constellation
bright upon that sky
even in the coming storm
I know your coordinates
your pulsar
a string of light
always close
ever far
from my touch
but always there
when I look,
for I hope when I pass
to transform to light
and join you
in that nightly retreat

(2)

tethered by a chord
into this world I did descend
lives and loves, my time is spent
so here I am at the end of such road
an appointment due with no one at all
for you have taken all my friends
I hope that with this single coin
might bear passage
to see them
once again

All looks, likes, comments and the such is greatly appreciated.  Criticism is welcome, how else can one grow ?  be well, spring is upon the land, at least mine, still waiting for the iron grip of this winter to relent… but there was a single dandelion on my lawn… a marker toward the march of summer’s dawn…