Red Rivers

Red Rivers 

Red rivers, meandering down
I follow until I drown
Will I ever see
That the red rivers were
Sprung from me

Red rivers, upon my body floats
Around a castle like moats
Will you ever see
Me drowning in the crowds
From your towers in the clouds

Red rivers, at thy feet they amass
Willow whispers that they rasp
Will they ever see
Blinded by the blight
Will you take them to the light

Red rivers, I am last
To an end that has come too fast
Will I ever see
A summer breeze sway willow frond
Or shall I lay here like a frog in a pond

Red rivers, must I go
Deltas are near I know
And I grow cold as snow
Will I ever know
Where the Red rivers go.

4/11/21 - Andy McRae

Impressions

Are impressions marked when two cross

Even for the most fleeting of moments 
Two souls can dance nearer yet never touch
Or two strangers could walk by on the street
Do either leave marked by the other.

A conversation held from minutes to hours
Wanderers and homebodies sharing tales of places
And things wonderful and bygone
Will they remember the other
When these days have long gone by.

Two lovers share an embrace intertwined 
Blooming like a rose bush full of thorns
A relationship doomed, they fall apart
Broken pieces scatter to the wind
Pain drives from memory
Can you recall what you suppress.

Locked in strife, a group struggles
Conflict the game they play, day to day
They lay down war eternal, until, in the end
It breaks, the group dissolves into the mist
They surely will be forgotten by each other
All the pain they inflicted upon each other.

How do we know if we left a mark on another soul
To leave an impression of ones being on another
For a minute, an hour, a day, a year or more
For someone to remember you after an encounter
That is what we strive for as humans
Whether that impression be positive or negative.
 
The strangest part is that it does not go both ways
You may distinctly remember them
Yet they may not even know who you are.

4/3/21 – Andy McRae

Pointed Hearts

Pointed Hearts

Pointed at my heart
A dagger thrust could start
A war over that very part

Pins lodged in my head, hurt
But the blood trickling down
Pools at the foot of my bed

Silent muffled sounds echo
Laughing giggles, roaring should
All in contrast of the whisper

A galaxy spinning in the dark
The part where I missed the spark
Now I wonder, alone, in the park

Head wounds open to the world
I close myself off from the rest
And die from distress

3/28/21 – Andy McRae