Tuesday, April 3, 2012

the weight of story . .

















crickets thrum on the still of the star ...
hidden by murky incandescent veils of circus clouds
stirring 
ruching into the corners of this night
dark & belligerent
drunken & tight ,,,,          
echoes of restlessness root at my heart 
while the ghost of your corporeal & tattered self 
shove the borders of our story to the edge of some splintered
shabby shelf .....
.... upon which hangs a forested cloak 
weaved of this gypsy-love tale ancient & battered 
shadowed 
infinite.
time means nothing, but please
STOP banging into the fragile seams of my soul ...
stop and
listen
to the stillness of the stars 
hold this moment 
indigo blue
yellow-bird yellow & hope red 
feel the weight & brilliance of that story ..
story-dust
star 
dust 
and the magic pockets of this
dark night ,,,,
still.

4 comments:

  1. "stop banging into the fragile seams of my soul..." LOVE that line!

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  2. "crickets thrum on the still of the star" --very nice :)

    ReplyDelete