From Vestigios A Poem

On the tenuous cusp of a moment
a tiny rattle
barely audible after the flapping of wings
has shaken this fragment of sky
tells the tale of life outdoors
with its most voiceless absences
with the sand that musses up nights of wind
with the mark that dreams up a skin that is brighter
lighter
sweeter
rather than this knowing every echo by heart
this seeking out the pointless clover of childhood
to end up at a dinner of empty plates
and a name repeated between gritted teeth
a tiny rattle like a cricket’s song
like papers rustling
or a distracted rap of the knuckles
bells aren’t needed to toll death knells
only breaths becoming thinner
like this
bit by bit
the waterwheel still turns in the nameless house
and the hearth still warms the morning coffee

between this shore and the next the air remains

Posted: April 23, 2012 at 6:19 pm