Smelling money
reach out to the stars.
Knowing why
they gaze down though
upon the deep dark earth
need to be richer
than material matters!

gaze into the glass
self-reflection is needed
what is it you sense

Brian Hill - 2020 # 161

The illusion is shifting again
The columns melting stone to blurred sand
Kiss the River bed, saturated nutrient flow
Estuary, opposites mixing like friends

Meeting our ends, meeting our ends
The Compost heap rots and withers,
In preparation to add to the cycle again
The moment is fleeting
Gather, pull the light close to your Chin
Hold it on the sides of its head
And gaze, gaze deeper and deeper again

life, for her, was a masquerade ball.
her purse was full of colorful masks.
each mask was carefully crafted,
designed to impress everyone else.
she was always watchful
with one hand in her purse
so she could switch masks.

he walked into the ballroom,
slowly approaching her.
she took off her mask,
fumbling in her purse
for a different one.
he caressed her arm
and shook his head.

the breeze tickled her face 
for the first time during the ball.
he quietly gazed into her eyes,
smiled to calm her racing heart,
then pressed his lips to her cheek.
they danced for the rest of the ball,
and her masks were never seen again.

He keeps looking.
Like I'm something for the taking.
The way he's staring at me dancing
Gets me thinking, I should stop.

No concrete action, no kind of evidence,
Just a rise of the hairs,
A sort of indescribable sense,
Warning bad intentions are by,
Stay quiet and put and shy.

Maybe if I cover more,
Maybe if I show a little less,
Maybe if I look away,
And keep ignoring all the rest,

Maybe it's what I have to do.

I lie on my back,
gazing at the vast abyss
stretching above us.