The House

outside non existent wind floats eerily
while inside the voices of years of memories whisper
in words only they understand
ages of sorrowful secrets kept hidden will remain untold
a sacred pact conspired with and sanctioned by time

and I lie here in my bed listening
but hear nothing
just the wooden walls breathing
and creaking their private language

Digital Drawing

Digital Drawing

© Dawn Whitehand 2015

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Tomorrow

dark swirls of noiseless wind
tug endlessly
tall ageless trees
branches strung out
silhouetting the night sky
vulnerable
defenceless
against mother nature’s savage breath
slowly ravaging
time lumbers obliviously
till virgin glints of sunlight
cut a crevice in the earth
a black hole sucking life from the tempest
and spewing forth another eulogy of despair

Charcoal on handmade paper

Charcoal on handmade paper

© Dawn Whitehand 2015

For You

nursing your ego

I listen

faithfully

unquestioningly

healing your wounds

open mind scars

seeping poisonous sludge

an invisible virus

that can’t be contained

it lashes out

indiscriminately

passionionlessly

Dawn Whitehand

© Dawn Whitehand 2015