The Poetry Of..
Nathan A. Baker...............................................
Southern Cross
Just off of I-95 South
Near a bustling river town
I found her in a motel room
Half naked; totally high
And truly surprised to see me,
She couldn't wait to send
Me back up the road chasing
Wild geese knowing all
The while he was in there too.
Light is not always necessary to see.
Truth can be measured even
In a dimly lit motel room;
Love has a right to judgment
But love is not malevolent.
Darkness at Three
There is anguish
In love's separation
Horrible darkness
Broken fellowship brings
I am not begrudging
My position on this planet
Simply seeking enlightenment
Greater illumination
Of this shadowy place
Love can paint in dismal tones.
Silence is a muted lesson
Of redemption
Broken Crayons
As a boy he tried really hard to stay
Within the lines while coloring
But his crayon always broke
First it was the dulling of the point
Which required tearing
Of paper label covering
This weakened the rounded wax stick
Housed inside, a deterioration
Having pigmented proportion
He gave up coloring for many years
Cataloging those illustrations
Black and white faces of desperation
Unfinished images; familial portraits
Smudged dreams in broken crayon
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