Monday, November 30, 2015

on waiting ...

before the blue-glass wall of you
unrecognizable i've become
perched upon a walnut branch
deemed muse
or
magician
by your tongue, by your hand....

let's talk about your hands for a minute, shall we?
how they are all i see when i close my eyes
strong, oak-molasses thick
i shall miss them most of all
i am weary of waiting

gather all my perched
     watchful minutes  --
alchemy them into ten thousand sparrows

waiting

for a thousand years i have waited for you to see me here
waiting behind the glass
watching stars, dust & shadows shift
settle
waiting
to dance, to alight, to spark, to fuck, to collide ...
waiting

snow falls heavy today ... and i will fly away from the blue-glass wall
of 
you


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