Silent Nightingale, by Afreeca Graham
Night songstresses.
Leaving this one.
They flipped tiny wings and left
Feathers of past presences.
In the stillness of dawn,
Right before the light had caught the Dew and gone,
Like a spider awaiting its web’s vibration to
Tingle.
I called out and listened for the wind to send my song back.
At the cage’s door
Chirping nervousness.
Thousands of songs
But never mine.
In the clutches of some feline.
Tale, of a song less
Nightingale.
Where Two Lines Meet by Afreeca Graham
Like the collision of two cars hitting each other.
It’s the beginning of something risky.
Like a handshake at a meet and greet.
Where two lines meet,
A road end.
And you can rest for a while until
You’re ready to trod on again.
Where two lines meet,
Blood flows.
Two lines meet in a middle
Or the beginning of an end.
Joining a clothing line.
Interwoven vine.
Where two lines meet,
The path is hazy-
Wonders never cease.
Like the streak of light that pulls you to the horizon.
Lines that never meet
Evoke fear,
And bliss.
It’s a trail filled with many signs “beware”
Like the road to nowhere.
Lines that never meet,
Destinations are never clear,
Journey is neat.
And the things you see
Comes from lines that goes on
Into eternity.
The things you never understood.
But now understand.
The things that crash.
The things fearful and full of bliss.
Things left in the middle.
At beginnings and ends.
The things we absentmindedly greet,
Comes where two lines,
Simply meet…
