Up Stream

up stream

A piteous card utters a thousand shards.
Hosts no alarm. A course must be taken;
Hands be shaken, as the petals conform.
The desert flower still fades in the storm.

Sit down or stand to witness a drowning;
In the maelstroms of that self-doubting.
The depleted flame floats by “stack-less”.
Breathe, offer a light upon this darkness.

“Whim” cannot hold on to the rafter’s end.
Swim, attain a footing in the shifting sand.
Bricks come tumbling down to the ground.
Stick to the stakes; silence break’s a sound.


— Ricardo Sexton

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