New

A blow of clear lungs air

The crisp embers that scatter autumns breeze 

Well rested and somewhat different

I have turned a new leaf

To understand that life is a dull shard

But I can push forward and escape

from my own delusions

There are visions of roman baths

Rebirth like the thriving moss

Within my grasp but my arms haven't 

grown quite enough to see them though

There is a place where I am not

that I could be where I won't rot

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I wonder if we really can escape from our own delusions....or maybe that is a delusion in itself...
we turn over new leafs more often than a leaf itself turns as it falls from the tree...

and those places where we are not...I often wonder how different life would really be if we were there---
or would we still rot the same.