In Spite of my Dead Place

Tornadoes strike in dead places.

Thunder clouds are shadows

inside broken bodies, lives, emotions, despair,

turbulent rain storms, and razing lighting -

when no one knows.

In the season of autumn, I’m in the era of my

life, struggling with challenges .

I’m more than most survivors.

I kick with bloody feet in asses.

I fight like a warrior

with my swords and shield,

warring in my soul

for a new dawn.

I choose to confront demons

attacking me, and not just complain.

As I watch falling leaves from my body,

it’s difficult to think about my struggles.

I’m a falling tree in a mesquite grove.

I’m lost in dark ranchland pastures.

I’m stuck in rivers’

sinkholes after spring rains.

I believe I’ve lost my mind.

Within my dead place, I’m living with

blowing dirt.

I’m watching sunsets as if they’re

the last time.

I will live for tomorrow

and I’m strong in spite of

my dead place.