Your Move

Your move.
By: Katie M. Moss



Mysteries unraveling
Point us to the cloudy shapes
Point us to whatever takes- us in.
Solemn midnight goodbyes
Hang on while we watch and die.
Hang on while we sit and wait--wondering.

Tiny voices, tiny songs
Whisper to us all day long
Whisper to us till we’re grown-silently.
On a new embark we go
Onward through the wind and snow
Onward through, we laughing go-casually.

Are we wake or are we dreaming?
Desperately, we are screaming
Desperately, we are clinging- hopefully.
Never knowing always doting
Always painful, always moping
Always empty, always marred- carefully.

What we don’t we’ll never know
Never shapes us while we grow
Never tells us what is so-dutifully.