The moon drops,
hard stone, into the quiet
pool of night,
bathing the dark
in dull off-white.
The night has ivory
teeth, and feet
padding over gravel.
like death, hooded and dark,
nothing but brittle bone.
Fog bound morning drives,
landscapes a constant surprise,
cloaked in golden light.
What’s missed are
sounds pass teeth & lips,
transformed by space
between; what’s shaped
you has not shaped me.
Usages change, same language,
same words, same
viewpoints, different readings;
all yearning, all feelings
blurred & re-figured by time
spent living between the lines.
Crows on carrion carry on cawing,
carving out a living on dead things,
flapping black flags on the roadside,
undertakers of the animal kingdom,
leaving white bone and fur bits by
winter highways, ravens on dark wings
weaving shadows over wintered fields.
Corvus corax, common raven,
dark intelligence, inquisitive
sentinels against a snow white world.
Part II & Part I
crystalline drifts, shining–
snow globe world–
blue shadows, clean whites–
unclouded skies, icicle-sharp
edges– poised to cut.
I am in over my head. I’m fixing up an academic paper to send in with my graduate school applications. I’m trying to keep up with this blog. I’m neck deep in rewrites for NaNoWriMo. This is probably our busiest month at work this year. And i want to write more short stories and poetry.
I need to get organized if I hope to accomplish even a fraction of this list. In the interest of preserving my sanity, my posts this month will be of the poetic variety. I have stuff to do, and precious little time. This idea–a serial poem in parts– has been pinging around in my brain for nearly a year. It’s time to eject it.
Part I is posted.
The rest are on the way.
I cannot remember a gentler December
With so many blue sky days
And grass so green, and birds and all,
Choosing this year to stay
A little bit longer than when winter’s stronger
Before they all fly away,
And now so deep in February’s thrall
With earth and sky matched gray
I long for the joyous chirping and chorus
Of little birds having their say
Flitting here and perching there
Enjoying the sun’s bright rays.