Taken To Heart

Shiny old things

Some trick of the river calls my name
a summer friend
the flicker of flame

A parting whisper
an empty chase
a wish departed
the hollow ache
heat waves
blur expression
‘cover-up’ the wince.

Blow softly
the siren grows
weaker, weaker
the braking zone
with no red lights for stopping.

And as the rocket circles round
round and round
an infinite loop
palms turn upward
sticky, fall
beneath us all


Copyright © Kelly Huntson and kellyhuntson.com  All rights reserved.


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