Mud on a Trail

At times, life is not enough.

To touch, feel, even breathe....Lack.

All these lack.

Lack in filling a man.

Lack in igniting.

Sparking a joy seen in pictures.

There is romance in believing our

fates are written in blood.

But look back, check the footprints.

Our fates are written in mud.

The mud of the dead, the murdered love

and the aborted days we feared to wake to.

Just mud on a trail.

copyright 2015 salvador cordova