Though
lovers be lost ...
1
Once,
you were a
river,
flowing
silver
beneath the
moon.
High tide
in the salt
marsh:
your body
filled
with shadow
and light.
I dipped my
hands
in dappled
water.
2
Eagle with a shattered
wing,
my heart batters
against bars of white
bone.
Or am I a killdeer,
trailing token
promises
for some broken god to
snatch?
Gulls float
downstream.
They ride a nightmare
of half-remembered
ice.
Trapped in my cage of
flame,
I return my feathers
to the sun.
3
Awake,
I lie anchored by
what pale visions of
moths
fluttering on the
horizon?
A sail
flaps canvas wings
speeding my way
backwards into night.
A feathered shadow
ghosts fingers over my
face.
Butterflies
stutter against
shuttered windows.
Strange hands
reach out to grasp me
and again I am afraid
of the dark.
4
When was my future
carved in each sliver
of bone?
A scratch of the iron
pen
jerks the puppet's
limbs
into prophesied
motion.
Who mapped in runes
the ruins of this
heart?
Above me,
a rag tag patch of
cloud
drifts here and there,
shifting constantly;
like this body of
water
in which I sail.
5
Eye of the peacock,
can you touch
what I see when
I close my eyelids
down for the night?
Black rock of the
midnight
sun, rolled up the
sky,
won't you release me
from my daily bondage?
Last night, the planet
quivered beneath my
body
and I felt each
footfall
of a transient god.
6
Thunder knocks
on the door of my
dream
and I am afraid.
I no longer know my
way
through night's dark
wood.
Who bore her body
out in that rush of
rain?
Could she still sense
the sigh of wet grass?
Could she still hear
the damp leaves
whisper?
7
A finger of fog
trickles
a forgotten face
down the window.
The power of water,
of fire, of frost;
of wind, rain, snow,
and ice.
Incoming tide:
stark waters.
Rising.
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