MORNING POEM i want the blank page to play me .. for hours range where i can stay free of it .. ashen with a char wood burn the milk churn clunk of dullness on an early day goats from the dairy come nosing with their chin pushed eyes full of brass insinuation - we will dry reeds then to make mats for the shade woven in us ... already valleys & clouds diffuse in the glowing ire of your sun .. we are not yet lost .. we pile up like mosses rigid in the mind stiff as sprung lichen where the closely watched water flows over the pome- granite .. violet & narcissus fall in a breeze as the blank fills quickly .... we are backward or forward in a moment - spitting out grievance to settle again where time fathoms us the cures & curses of our bones bent sallow in the shadows each mark a reflection on the page yet visible in the acid wash of an afternoon light 18-8-13
Posted on: Sun, 18 Aug 2013 03:57:38 +0000