WINGS

bleak bloody blindness and
the sharp cruel behindness
of things darkened in shade
expecting growth
in a sun gone waylaid
my notebook is waiting
like an Sherpa on Everest
give her direction
or she will crash first
now or never
doesn’t matter this time
she will plough on and then some
only anger will gnaw at
demeanor gone frolicksome
he died she died we all died
in frozen retainer
I had wings once
waxed and full of desire
my mother
my father
my sister on fire
a corrugated face
allows the rain to drip down
an unregulated race
stumbles to finish
the race to the crown
the most important word
is yes unless it is no
we are all the same humans
in our quest for desire
what we don’t get over
are the remains of the fire
earth is a stew
we may rise above
the pulse the breath
we are a bleak bloody blinded
discordant choir
the best people left
tell the stories round the campfire
surrounded by death
lift the mandolin
the harp
the fingers snapping
the heart
rules the space between things
soar now or dive
the heart only sings
drink until rules
change into wings