The days of sunset songs
we thought
were
long past
the splash of late afternoon
dappling your skin
in rust shadows
a stripe of light
running tall fingers
dipped in dust motes
upon your breast
You speak
portals open
alternative universes
loom
starscapes beckon
and seduce
in searing
blazing
star death
in boiling suns
and reverent hommage
to utterance
I fall
into your voice
a seeker
a believer
a truth you never released
never gave up on
or sold out
to the soulless ones
A vibration
strumming upon
your tongue
playing the sunset song
in all its dreadful aching
desperate perfection
and I
the echo
the memory of sound
barely heard
whispering
me
to you
2 comments:
Hi there, long time no see/read. Man it's been a hard time here in Chch. Still nothing here resembles normality. Only nature, with the relentless turn of seasons, remains unaffected and offers some slight assurance that things might one day return to something like what they were.
I love the sci-fi elements in this poem (right up my alley :)). This strophe:
A vibration
strumming upon
your tongue
playing the sunset song
in all its dreadful aching
desperate perfection
and I
the echo
the memory of sound
barely heard
whispering
is especially beautiful.
Hello Stranger !!! *BIG HUG*
It has been a very long time, I kinda thought you might have moved on *smile*, really glad to see your post.
I cannot imagine the aftermath of such an event my friend, once the media stops feeding on the story,no more information is forth coming , but the rebuilding of a city would take, I would imagine, years, and the mental and physical scars, even longer.
I can only hope nature will leave you all alone, to rebuild or move on as you wish, in peace
Always around if you need an ear mate :)
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