Amusement Park

 
From the dark room
Red
        roller
                  coaster
middle of the dark tunnel,
Black, rusted seat belts locked,

Side rocks dented
The leg and roller
Iron down
My strong deep black belt
I hollow
Rusty tickets

*

Heming way

We dream when they rise,
how she wanted to follow the dreams.

The thoughts of her rejecting them with other problems,
with the rise of psychology, the mythological disturbances awoke.

Just a dream,
Our thoughts thrust forward.

*

Dancing Winds

 
In the amber glow of fall’s descent,

The breeze storms with the red and orange leaves,
As they twirl and spin in the crisp embrace of the autumn air,

Beneath the golden shade,
Burnt Sienna whispers in the maze,
Of orange hues that gently sails,

In the rusting pile, memories bloom,
A symphony of scent, autumn’s aroma,
They rustle beneath the golden moon,

In the night, a cold breeze weaves,
Flickering flames succumb to the autumn frost,
Whispers of endings on the autumn wind…