Staying safe in between the busy railroads,
Running trains brushing off painted antidotes.
The trees lean on my clavicle, cracking it in,
And feeling good seems to be the original sin.
Leaves shaking my ribcage with seven winds,
Heart chambers made out of empty cans and tins.
Roots graying out but I’m standing my ground.
Seeing the three lights approaching
Kicks my recklessness, so new-found.
-JW
The perfect balance does not exist on a faulty planet
And destiny keeps playing drums on polished granite.
The rhythm section is not coming along as planned.
It sometimes scares me – here we stand
Just to end up as few grains of sand.
I try to amplify the echoes but they all fall flat on the ground.
Plastic crates, even metal cages do not resonate the sound.
The lurking chords are getting wider with nowhere to go
So I talk in my sleep while it snows.
At least my nightmares have something to show.
-JW
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 