how close
false moves
undermined
by truth
the heart knows the lie
a little better each time around
falling one way
burning the other
the unwavering certainty
of loneliness to follow
but nothing is wrong
unless i never try again.
sleight return
memory has its shadows
cast in the low light
of lonely hours
of beauty’s remainder kept
of simple glance
or easy grace
of some small or strange thing
left in the corner of the mind
to suddenly
turn the tide of remembrance
from harmful
to healing.
stone blue
folded corners
dust and bones
the light becomes too dark
to see beyond at times
so wait
be where you are
even if it seems
to be nowhere
feel
as life
lives thru you
its breeze
your breath
its shelter
your body
its song
your soul
in stillness
as in storm
somewhere deep inside
it is always known
all is well.
we’re all broken
not one can escape
the grinding gears
darkly stained
with the blood
of the heart
the mind a maze
turning more maddening
minute by minute
and here we are
inside of it all
tearing ourselves
and each other apart
running every which way
wills running riot;
our wounds
should never be
our shame
but our glory
and our reason
to emerge
from their
shadows
cast.
About the Author
Edward L. Canavan is an American poet whose work has most recently been published in The Opiate, Harbinger Asylum, and The Nervous Breakdown. His first poetry collection entitled “Wreck Collection” was released by Cyberwit Press in March 2019. Edward’s poems were featured as part of The Poetry of Place exhibit at South Pasadena City Hall Gallery in March 2020. He is a native of the Bronx, NY and currently resides in North Hollywood, California.
