Saturday, September 20, 2014


begin again and
face the soft end
that blue dark of night
that unfinished tune
a deep pond of life
a rank scent of knife
from nature’s death
reclaim the mood
leave the rest
in a childy brooding
stop breathing
stop leaving
stop wanting
stop haunting
go listless for once
while the angels
that child will live
if you leave it alone
that story will fester
until it explodes
step back from the
reject the regrettable
wait at the table
for a story, a fable
patience is armor
and I am begettable
in the blue dark of dawn
I give birth to the moon
in the churlish new morn
I know who I am

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