The End

I feel death's
orange sweet breath
on my face, when
I breath out its
wish, I hope I fall
like a leaf, wither
to the ground, be stirred
up by the passing
cars, flutter back down
to rest, gracefully.

by E. M. Soos

Tuesday Storm

Dark hovering clouds
survey the landscape,
search for earth untouched;
dry arms outstretched toward heaven.

Red and orange catch eyes,
God unnoticed until wet.

by E. M. Soos

Bike Ride

Melodious poems caress the soft creases
of my ears, Fiona Apple warms
the headphones, sings of wearing time
like a dress. My pedaling slows
to the bluesy beat, blood flows
through my limbs.

I picture a sweet open field.
My legs wrapped around ribs
of an appaloosa. Fiona's
singing never drowns out
the whistling finches. The wind
covers traffic sounds. A feeling
of love, so pure, for life
fills my eyes.
Equal only to a child's laugh.

by E. M. Soos