Pilgrims

for my brother.

We wrap up in black coats
and walk out into the black night,
lips in our fists and shuffling feet,
together we stride at that woebegone pace.
We head down the dark street,
our childhood calling us back to
these still unfamiliar sidewalks,
unlit houses now quiet and cold.
We are the first we tell,
with our hearts on our sleeves,
our mouths willing words into physical form.
We move through our own clouds
of silence, and breath, and discovery.
When the world pulls back the blanket
we bare our souls to the frozen air
and stand shivering in the new truth.

Reviews

[Brette Medb]

Stand shivering in the new truth... wonderful words.

Great write.

Brette