Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Untitled
(For Kinglake)
There is only time
for one more
rushed
smear cheek
kiss
The sky is burning
and you are turning
indigo.
Leaving long shadow dancers
undulating against burgundy horizons
our feet
drip flame prints
into soft earth.
We try to out run
destiny
and rage
with tears
dying and drying
upon the wind.
The lavender
you watered each dawn
and dusk for 20 years
explodes
ember fairy's
cavorting upon the nights
tight lipped countenance
spark and arc
into spiraled firefly glow
The conflagration
bringing
submission
to eye lids
gummed closed
Holocaust
for farewell
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2 comments:
This has a very nice touch. Slow and wistful. I like it.
Sort of a gentle inevitability about it somehow.
Why thank you madame, its ok I guess, I think I do too many fire metaphors really, but well, there you have it.
What can a poor poet do *grin*
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