Starless sky reflects
Empty void disconnection
Face dry in repose
Tides creeping to shore
Brief feelings in rare surges
Eyes will not obey
The author and site owner can be reached at leeundercedartrees@gmail.com.
Under the Cedar Trees Posts
I write not on account of skill, as I am certainly lacking. Rather, I write because there is a deep need, vast and cluttered with dust clouds and a few faint stars and violent storms and ocean tides and evergreen forests and cycles of the moon and heartaches and hope for life and quiet pleas for death or sleep and a real person turned away, hidden, who I can never become.
The writing will continue until I’ve purged so much need, there’ll be no more words to be said, or my end has arrived — whichever comes first.
A dear friend is on a journey
They crossed an entire ocean
Hoping to pull themselves from another
Hero, trickster, what…?
Low sun autumn sky
Those I pass by in the world
Each flawed each perfect
In friend’s safe presence
The mask begins to dissolve
Sun feels warm again
September 22, 2024
Surely, one day this well will run dry.
We take on different shapes for different rooms.
Do I do better with or without it?
If I were to suddenly die unexpectedly, no warning at all, no time to prepare; part of me today wants all of these words spread to all who knew me.
But the catch here is that I can’t care about any of it after I’m gone, so it really makes no difference either way.