A Visit

Roger B Rueda

Visit me in my room 

If ever you have time. 

My room is dark 

And we can 

Play hide- 

And-seek. 

Or you can turn on 

The light and I 

Will bring you to my 

World. Then you'd 

Sculpt me into David 

As if you were 

Michelangelo. 

Death

This flashed upon my dream: 

A chair carved with leaves and flowers, 

Shellacked and deserted in a grassy field 

Is rained and rotting: 

Who is the sculptor? 

In the middle of the night 

Death as though a seed was flown by the wind 

To my heart and clogged my vein. 

I woke up instinctively and thumped my chest: 

Death sprouted faith: 

I returned to sleep 

With the Sculptor by me.