Saturday, November 29, 2008

The Woman in Black

The woman in black
walks the streets at night
unseen by the towns people
sleeping unaware.

From the mists of the past,
she is out of her element
and out of her time, yet
she is unable to find rest.
She cries out to a humanity
unable to comprehend.

She walks the streets
in the dark--alone
and searches for something
that she can not find
because it is not in the night.

She wanders, restless, then
evaporates with the first light,
hidden, yet existent,
like the tiny specs of dust
that are only seen
in the bright sunshine.
crouching tiger
hidden in the early morning fog
the fog lifts

Friday, November 21, 2008

Walking in space
you are tethered


to the ship
following its trajectory
you seem one mistake away
from orbiting in indefinite
i sit
in the early morning darkness
and contemplate the
that binds us

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

The partially buried dead
is hardly noticed by passersby.
Haphazardly covered
by unsteady sand,
it is part of the
changing landscape
of this world.

Dream World

in this world
the dead are buried
in the sand
shifting, uncovered
by the breeze and time
and left alone
to be noticed
by passersby

Monday, November 10, 2008


The polluted waves
of raw sewage
wash up on shore
unaffected by the passage of time.
They flood the corridors of my brain.
All I see is dark.
All I feel is uncomfortable dampness.
I keep the walls within reach
of my fingers,
blindly groping
for a way out.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

For my husband

Strength on strength,
you draw your power
from adversity blessed,
from forgotten love
turned to earnest steadiness
tirelessly pursued

I cherish the gift of
your unfolding self,
given to me
twice in our lives,
brought together
and held together
by the glue that is
the Love
of God.
Poems © Gemma W. Wilson