Unto you all
Magnitudes of joy
Winners must stand tall

Alone sometimes we wait
With the wrong key
At the right gate

Sometimes beneath the brush
A silent memory echoes
a vain, disordered look
a widower, an ache

Promise not to wake her
In her slumber,
Sleep vacant-
but not far from reach

Gratitude for the worthy
Who are these men who call to order?
Vessels of empty breeders
a love for them I may not harbor

Lonely, ghost child
Who are you searching for?
Who are your brothers?

Be gone troubled tomorrows!
Doubts are but demons
Cast iron freemen
Willing to set aside fate

Look at her
her soft skin
Her willingness
to let him in

© Delia Faith Ross