Feet fearing of the brambles

A walk in the moonlight
Footsteps in the dark
Every step another fight
To the tune of the meadowlark

Change is in the wind
We can’t see where it takes us
But we know where we’ve been

Stumbling in a guarded bus
Pounding on the panes
There’s more out there we’ve yet to know
We may guess its asphalt road

But here we are left to row
Without a current
or an oar

Looking for the wise words
That someone else had written
There are no leaders anymore
As we lay upon the floor

Left with only twinkling lights
That glitter in lieu of stars at night
What was that,..?
I was looking for,..?

I don’t remember anymore
I think I might have found it
But I don’t know what it is

There’s something
That I don’t know
That I know
I miss


About Laura DeLucio Gross

The beauty of the word is the subconscious nature in which it finds it's way upon our lips or past our fingertips. The stroke of our fingers on a pen or a key or the softest breath carried past our lips have such an impact that friends, relatives and strangers can carry such words with them in their minds, to come along with us on a journey into our thoughts. In our darkest hours we must always remember to remain conscious that people have lived and died by words. I am a wife, mother, confidant and friend to many. There are no strangers in my world. Only friends that I have not yet had a chance to know. Sensually minded, self-educated, street wise, natural living, power tool wielding, minimalist mom with transcendental aspirations.
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