Saturday, 1 September 2012

First of September

After a deeper silence

in the mirror

I see a lighter black

than the solid block of night

by a near full moon.

~

I'm forgotten, don't exist

washed out in the spinner

over and over

they made a carving

on my temporal bone

I can hear when I'm quiet

waiting for her

to come of age.

~

Feeling like I've had too much

this week

last night a girl years away

behind the veil of clouds

though the day had been

clear

enough to walk by Lois

and a grey cat almost invisible

on a grave

moving to comb through some gold

and let me

lie down.

~

But we walked on

and again before bed

to see her

and an antique moth

through the window

body like a saint

owl eyes on his wings.


 

No comments:

Post a Comment