Monday, September 21, 2009

Show me

where the wild winds pull;

over the tilts and truths of this threshold.

So I gaze beyond

for a star's second;

looking in, wondering

how our feet can carry us into silence;

across the blackened floorboards

and back, deep into some sinking room

where I sense firelight. Surely,

I have been here before.

A glance

with the snow;

she knows the softer ways

when time was a mother,

but I traveled here over

hills and heartlands, learned

languages and traded love

for some rocks– and never once regretted

the back roads or the unknowns;

so she nodded with my shadow.

The darkness wavers, hovering between

gold and night; I am the streetlights

and the drifting snow; a simple creature,

I only know the silence beyond that top step,

a craving for what is fiercely blind,

my own darkened door wide open.


You have the look about you

of autumn; something fiercely gold,

soft-spoken and fallen. Do you sleep?

Do you close your eyes anymore?

The sound of snow clouds

drifting low from the sky,

ready to drop to the ground.

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