Oh but the light is always leaving,
our prayers wrung so hollow,
crumbs stuck to the plate.
Dusk only settles when the reckoning is wrong,
those lingering persuasions of sun,
the unintended blessings mentioned
as the passing of tired burdens.
The palette chooses grays and blues,
the black coffee bitter,
the moon but a husk.
The bassline beats at blood and stucco
the plaster all but peeling
with these painted metal fears.
Night arrives with out an escort.
Night arrives without hope or spite.
The dogs are always barking,
all strangers their neighbors.
Warning through fence and shrub,
calling out through window and wall.
The light has left us here.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
stars apart
Another boom and the moon is peeking through the part in the curtains, neither cause for the streaming tears, those only the parlance of our...
-
This is how your letter finds me, as beaten and bowed as nature allows. This is how your letter finds me, a little lighter on the metaphor. ...
-
The earth shifts, the air you just inhaled seems to slip away. Something sour blooms, something unclean at your very core. The bile choked b...
-
If you must remember me, remember me at my worst. Somehow it gained the virtue of certitude, when so much failing came as lack of faith. Som...
No comments:
Post a Comment