But when the waters rise, I sink gasping for air.
Lungs suffocate with fear, breathing becomes spare.

My hope begs to die but strength continues to swim
as like a river the water flows constant.  Life never dries.

I rise again and float on the stream beds between
the banks of my existence.  Flesh water wakens me.
Alive again I flow into the sea of my domain.

And there is where I reach the still waters of tranquility.

The still waters are clear, settle and I see through to my soul;
Life resumes and my spirit renews, becoming whole.

© 2009
Tarringo T Vaughan

Steady moments blanketed on a canvas of time,

fallen

are the memories

now scattered across sidewalks where the footprints

of childhood once rhymed.

We used to play back then, when solid trees

Stood tall, but now only their leaves

now lay.  The beauty of innocence, now forgotten, once

was the portrait of a wonderful display

as each November we danced in the rain

in our elements of youth before crime hit the city

and dreams drifted off into just an echo

of silence that now parole curbs of decay.  Only leaves

remain, now crumbled into fossil(ed) reminders of how

life use to be, back then, when autumn winds

tickled the faces of our forever child; before

times got wild and growth took us away

from everything we dreamed was possible.

Now, as these leaves scatter, I hear each sound of laughter

As they crumble under my feet and within each

pleasure of burgundy mixed with a slight tint of brown

I see each face that I once knew –

fallen but very much alive inside

the heart of years gone by.

© 2012

Tarringo T. Vaughan

I am a pause stranded between the history
of tomorrow and the future of yesterday. Time
stands still. I walk with feet that travel nowhere.
Sidewalks end yet are paved by forever’s hands.

Everyone sees me; I am invisible,
no one pays attention to my silence.

The sunlight heals my absence
with its radiant glow on already darkened skin.

My mind is stuck in traffic, moving steadily
with thoughts that sing, but out of tune.

Scattered movements.

No one sees my whispers, but they glance
to hear the footsteps of my words. They turn away.

I am left alone. Time rings and I un-pause. Awakened;
I open my eyes to a dream remembered.

2011 from “A Crack In The Sidewalk”