Author Archives: guavatart
Writing the Bones I wonder if I’m brave enough to travel into dark spaces.
Ft. Lauderdale Airport
Confusion and gun powder no one escapes the promise of fear.
Knocking at my door to answer would not be wise the spectre rears its ugly head fishing for a victim not this time. Not me my road leads elsewhere
Dreams shuffle through An unending series of poorly taken photos Stop haunting me spirit You spent far less time with me In life
Unanswered
Hearing the ring in hopeful waiting the call once again goes to voicemail.
Waiting for Magic
As the old year leaves me bereft my candle of small hopes burns just a bit brighter
Wolf’s hour
‘Fore day morning dark I lay awake contemplating my wolves.
In darkness
Somewhere in the darkness a tree has lost its footing and tumbled down.
Promises
Finally a promise to myself I was able to keep.