Mary Havran Poems

Before dawn wind rushes
driving night’s chill westward
so vestiges of darkness
send shivers along my spine.
...

Am I to be tested by fire?
Tempered, as steel, to forge the keener blade
Can I possibly survive?
...

No time to prepare
Shoved over cliff by sorrows
Float down now, gently
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Lonely is just one word chosen to represent so much
To tell of feelings inside that the senses cannot touch

Lonely can be in the teardrops on a bereaved person's cheek
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Somewhere, sometime, you were Wounded
Maybe as early as infancy when you were denied
All the essentials of the bonding experience
Perhaps the wounds were inflicted
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If Ignorance be Bliss
One may not seek for this
But if Intelligence is Unwise
One might not choose such prize
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Love came late
Or, I came late to Love

There I’ve said it.
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On the edge I stand
Constructing paper airplanes
Crisp clean fresh sheets
Free of any dark remark
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Night’s paling azurite horizon
cloaked in a gossamer veil of clouds
briefly contests the sunrise
thus allowing nights last stars
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Nothing
I mean not a Thing
Literally
No Things
...