There is in the dust

There is in the dust,
of our more active days,
words left unsaid,
I find them by listening,
to the voices,
of distant friends,
over electric presses,
that never stop.

There is always one of the blogging multitude that has the right word to waken what is for the moment sleeping.
Peace

Wilderness Disease

Concrete skies,
Are all she sees,
She has,
A wilderness disease,
She’s caught,
On the horns,
Of a dilemma.
She has,
A wilderness disease,
Concrete skies,
Are all she sees,

She is a wilderness child
And these,
Soda pop canyons,
Are about to,
Drive her wild,
Concrete skies,
All she sees,
She has,
A wilderness disease,

The world knows
Her wilderness soul’s
Ultimate goal’s,
To embrace,
Life,
Completely,
Before,
The light goes out.

All she sees,
Are concrete skies,
She is wilderness wise
And concrete skies,
Are all she sees,
She has,
A wilderness disease.