The asphalt receives them with open arms
But it is only warm when it doesn’t need to be.
You can see them, if you really care to look.
Most do not.
And so, their numbers grow.
Like shadows, they drift at the edge of society’s conscience
But conscience is a funny thing, and I do not purport to know the trivial actions that can easily assuage it.
And so, the silent army grows.
Inhabiting the nooks and crannies of our cities.
Some of them are ancient, and some of them are still swaddled, screaming out their legions misery.
But conscience is a funny thing
#firstpiecewrittenfornewopsia

Hello! Nice to be back and see familiar friends. I am trying to comment on Nike lovely poem but can’t see how to post it. Am I missing something? 😯

Sweet Girl ~in honor of our precious, sweet sheltie we lost suddenly to liver failure last fri. She was the best of dogs The company arrived the day you died, and stayed for three nights. It was.... a slight distraction. But now they're gone, and #life resumes it's standard rituals. And with each daily routine, the grief and pain sink deeper into my bones. You had always been there a quiet, gentle presence. But now, the absense of you is like a silent scream. It fills the house, and echos off the cabinets and walls. It coats, like ashes and soot. The minus of you is a pallor that assaults the view of every nook and cranny in this house. It feels like a tomb in here. It's been a week, and the journey of my grief unfolds in layers. At first there was a helpless rage. Then, we wept anew at each routine you were no longer there for. Then, my arms ached for an entire day with the longing to feel you once again. Around day four, I was looking for someone to blame. My thoughts cast like sticky nets to drag in every detail, every possible culprit. No one escaped examination. Including ourselves. It's been a month, and last night we shared with eachother the odd, inconspicous ways your death has effected us. Even our remaining sheltie seems a bit lost. We all feel incomplete. And although the deafening echo of your absence still bounces off the walls, my brain and heart are beginning to acclimate. It will be a different #life now without you. But your gentle, sweet nature has touched our hearts. And there, you will remain forever.

I want to sleep where the stars kiss the loam And slumber in sweet repose With a milky dust blanket that sighs like feathers upon me And when the gloaming heralds the crickets chorus, we will lay far from man's folly And sleep upon the heels of giants ~inspired by camping among the mighty redwoods of Northern California

Star Dust The night you left I gathered up the sky and packed it in my case. But not too much. I didn't want to pay the extra fee. And as the plane cast heavy into the sky I wondered, would the stars explode and release themselves back to the night? Or would they remain intact, a thousand hidden treasures? They were with us when. Perhaps they hold the answers. I dont know. In case they do, I will store them carefully in a box at the back of the closet. And when the lonliness gets too much to bear, I will open that box, breath them in, and remember.