#poetry
-
by Michael Plante A square stone made of onyx sits on a shelf in my mind. It holds the cold moon of December. The shelf is in a closet which is in a room, a closed door keeps the closet secured, as another keeps the room closed. There is a long corridor with many doors,…
-
by Michael Plante So grey I cannot see anything…fog all around me; stings my eyes.Droplets form, then run down my cheeksfalling from my chin to the ground below.There is a chill in my heart.I ask my Creator, “Am I alive or dead”?There is no response. I hold a staff in my right handmade of black…
-
May the spirit of the season bless you and your family.Cheers’ from The Poet’s House
-
by Michael Plante Freedom-release or escapedid the Creator open the door to your prisonor did he give you an area to escape into?Prison is within the mindfor a caged bird sings praises to the Creatorand receives contentment for its efforts. The bird closes its eyesand dreams of an open fieldthe vastness of nothing is where…
