ALONE IN A CEMETERY
The wind whispers.
The trees sway.
Air hisses through the leaves.
Shadows lurk between gravestones.
With long robes, they sweep toward me.
A statue looms in the distance.
A winged angel turns her cold face
and faces me.
A wicked grin curves her mouth.
Her wings take flight.
And so do I.
Postcard from Tulum by Todd Wall
Calm blue waters.
Pink sand.
Palm trees wave in the sea breeze.
A burst of wind lifts the palm trees.
From their roots, they fly.
From their anchors in the sand.
A puff of wind
and they’re gone.
I will fight.
I will fight the hunters.
I will fight to the death.
I will ride proud and free.
Man will not tame me.
I will not be ridden.
I will remain as free as the wind.
I was born free.
I will die free.
Ice Fire
Cold.
Icy cold.
My toes feel numb.
My fingers tingle.
The wind howls.
Sleep tempts me.
But I must continue.
The view waits for me.
A few more steps.
Silence wraps its arms around me.
I raise my face to the sky.
The colors take my breath away.
GAZEBO IN THE DARK
Darkness surrounds from each side.
The storm brews with the rising tide.
A gazebo stands in the clearing.
I don’t like the shrill sound I’m hearing.
Candles flicker inside.
There is no place to hide.
I’m being pulled toward the light.
My body refuses to fight.
A noose hangs above me.
I will never be free.
THE DEAD GAME
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A perfect oasis where dreams come true.
Palm trees wave their arms in the warm breeze.
Birds sing a happy tune above the blue.
Until the night exhales its cold breath.
Torrents of wind dig through the white sand.
Where dark shadows leave no footprints.
And tourists remain innocent no more.
THE DEAD GAME
The sun hits my face.
Clouds are soon
followed by raindrops,
Tears from heaven.
Between the sun and clouds
they fall.
Propelled by the soft wind,
They blur my vision,
Stop me in my tracks,
Cause me to face the sky,
To the heavens,
To the source.
