Saturday, September 1, 2012

Dusk



Dusk

Exploration—
The gold-sprayed grass
Midnight swing
Stray hair
In pale
Melancholy,

Let me hold
Your hand,
As gravity swells
Beneath bedsprings—

Chain-link,
Planted in eternity
Housewives of
The winter—
Brown leaves in
Snapshots

Hanging on
The wall—
Utter
Words of
Touch,

A bit more
Of the much
Insidious
Clutch—

Talk
Vivid, don’t—

Stop,
The gentle
Breeze
From parted lips

Split falling
Our chests settle
Wayward,

Rosy display
Of humility.

Exhale.



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