A Last To The Breeze


Ashes gyre a last to the breeze
enchantment, raise, to be seen.
Would you forget about me?

The shadows in the hollows creep
and they tell me I’m awake
in my dwell of taken seraph tone
where ghosts sway to whispered aches.

I can’t swim against the snow
catch flakes of deceit and feign
and maybe tell auroras not to glow
and shooting stars not to fall.
See them fly past all clemency
and hope pass the dark side of the moon.
If instead I could run to cease
then Lord, let me run to you.

Jordan Baker
April 2015



The crescent moon is golden in tint
with fire behind its shadowed cloak
which should have ceased a time ago.
Still sheltered to the common eye
this spectral world keeps twirling by.
For today I have life.
For today I have life.

Jordan Baker
Nov 2013