Friday, October 26, 2012

the cusp of longing


blue jay on the window sill
moon ghost-hangs in the sky
morning frost presses into the corners & cracks
sidewalk gray, this dream ... owl's sigh

sharp wood smell of grass & sage
return to the blue-edge of winter
catch up to the joy-shadows of your past
with stars as bright as vetiver

it's soft and it's rolling and cold as the hollow
the passing of days in years deep
love-piercing and bold as the tail of a comet
come away to the bite of dreams keep

3 comments:

  1. What a gorgeous, textural, sensual post. Each word speaks in metaphor. Nothing extraneous.

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  2. oh my...such subtle at first, but not really.

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  3. To Niamh ,,, and Lisa
    Thank You

    ReplyDelete