Saturday, March 19, 2011

The Diaphanous Library / new poems 2011

I've Been High

everything is on fire

low lapping wolves
at wooden

winter has turned strange
and in the quiet sits fear,
trembling blue

but I've been high,
stood on the roof of this world,
looked down at what looks like
make believe

cried to the heavens,
cursed at the stars

the ravaged, stoic moon
over both shoulders
with its eternity of travails
left unspoken

speaking volumes,
shining soft white, silver light
upon the inevitable coming calm
and its ladder back through clouds
i climb down, descending, determined
to wade the boiling, roiling waters,
walk the blackened, broken land

and though
the wolves still bay
off in the distance,
fear somehow stands,
its pale face transformed
by soot and sorrow,
and walks on into a night
still ablaze, shoulders broad
and parting a sea of smoke
and uncertainty, unafraid at last

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