Phase

evening moom

In viewing me, you cannot see the sum of all my parts;

Your eyes can only scan my skin, they can’t discern my heart.

For as the moon in mystery is shrouded from our gaze,

What we observe in others is but one nocturnal phase.

Keep this in mind if others show a less than stellar frame –

Character is more than what one action can proclaim.

As Mistress Moon evolves each night, her beauty ebbs and wanes,

We cannot judge our neighbour’s heart by what his face contains.

Burned Bridges

cosmos brittle

She smiles – but, life having burned the bridge of her nose,

it no longer has a means to travel from her lips to her eyes.

“I hate him,” she says,

in the same tone she used to order her decaf latte,

taking a sip

and trying not to spill

on the perfectly white tablecloth.