Kim Talon - 2
PerhapsPerhaps they know better than I
unconcerned with the world where a driver can’t be trusted to parallel park without a car’s help perhaps they just don’t care about selfies and blogging and tweets-- just the noise a bird makes and perhaps our constant self-indulgence could never extend to the natural world for aren’t they the kings and queens of indifference? the daffodils bloom every year ignorant things with fluted faces preening in the sun oblivious of friends or fashion or followers should I envy them? perhaps… BatteredYou play music like a man possessed ...
you tell me this is the only time you feel liberated and unfettered from the banality of day to day and I don’t feel slighted because we all hanker for a soul’s pure freedom You tell me the notes are demanding and you, their instrument, must do their bidding until the music stretches the ordinary as tightly as you stretch the strings of your battered Gibson until the notes become something else... something you lay claim to IllumineThe night sky is full of wishing stars
and sleep is a gypsy moon lighting up the world wrapping you in the penumbra you stay… until moon sleeps and sun warms bones The FallThe day is prickly
like thistle-laden fields color leaks from trees staining the river ochre the beginning of the end of a calendar year of the harvest the season of remembrance the season of haunting… its autumn The Soothsayer
When the wind blows north
raising hackles of neighborhood dogs causing them to lift muzzles skyward howl deep then the soothsayer cannot stop the flow of words speaking quickly and concisely tossing prophecy up letting the words settle down When the sky darkens and neighborhood cats skitter down shadowed walkways eyes glittering emerald and citrine as lightning tears holes in the sky the soothsayer cannot speak but retreats to a silent room to write missives on vellum with ink as blue-black as a Raven feather The soothsayer-- born of the knowing taught by the all-seeing living a general purpose life tucking wisdom close tossing it helter-skelter ♢ Comments? |
10,000 Holes10,000 nail holes weren’t enough
to hold the frames that held the photos to hide the crack you made when you smashed the walls-- the walls you thought kept you out when you forgot they kept you safe another hole 10,001 so a frame might cover another tentacle of the crack racing from floor to ceiling stretching out finger-like plaster cast of a broken heart CantankerousThe west wind creeps
through the fields hollow bones rattling in its wake a disgruntled crow takes wing his shadow stuttering across the stubble field crow shadow as bruised as crow ego-- the sparrows chirp TattersYou tore pieces from the sky
the world shifting to black and white so many ashes blowing in the wind and you with your ghost-white face and fingertips soot-stained blending the shadows of loss LuminanceWe light candles purely white against press of dark
pearlescent face of the Long Night Moon peers over oak branches keeping watch neither candle nor moon shed light but hold radiance close... the still dark gently tamed The MightHe might have done a couple of things differently
maybe turned left instead of right at the crossroads but there were never soul signs quite as direct as yield, dead end, stop, danger and, yes, the hands of time had taken him on in a few crucial rounds and knocked him temporarily senseless but he did his best to be true to himself and what more could you ask? She might have done a few things differently maybe looked up instead of down at critical moments checking for silver linings and rainbows instead of stones in the road preparing for the tempests instead of letting them envelop her leaving her spent and exhausted but she did her best to be true to herself and what more could you ask? They might have done some things differently… but they did their best ResidueShadows neath the sumac are blood red
soaking the autumn grasses from frost-pale to a shade macabre I sit awhile picking leaves stripping them to the bone |