The Eastern Light

A starless night stealsAcross the sea,Where I stray, half-sunkIn the boundless, black brine.Arms weary, I thrashAmid the violent waves,Whose frothy peaksPush me far from shore. But in the eastern skyDawns a hopeful glimmer:A radiant girl wreathed in lightWith smile beaming,Shadow fleeing. Like holy fireShe burns awayThe night. And as the churning seaLies still with a … More The Eastern Light

The Fire Rages

Dead wood burns overThe fields of the fallen. Axes rentAnd armor split, an army of corpsesRests atop bloodied grounds. Smoke risesAs dusk falls On a red sun, whose rays will neverLight their smiles again. Smoke rises To the mountains and sweepsInto the sea, whose waves will neverKiss their feet again. The rains lamentThe passing of … More The Fire Rages

The Sparrows’ Song

The sparrows flitAmidst autumn grovesOf ash and of oak.Their songs slipLike a gossamer breezeThrough the branches,Whose outstretched armsEmbrace the tuneWith rosy fingers splayed. Beneath the boughs,On a bed of moss,I drift into reverie.The shade is thick,The leaves fall,And the sparrows sing on. I listen with one ear perkedAnd another nestled in dirt.Sleep will take me.Winter … More The Sparrows’ Song

All is Ash

Cinders swim In the summer breezeLike gold coinsThrough my fingers. SmokeBeckons with silver plumes.I follow. Its scent is strongWith oak and cherry,And kisses my lipsHello, goodbye.I follow. All aroundThe wreckage playsA symphonyOf crackles and snaps.And the timber singsA friend’s sweet elegy.I follow. The world glowsWithin the hot embraceOf orange and scarlet.I surrender. Flames enclose me.All … More All is Ash

Before Their Time

Tulips spring From the morbid earth, Their leaves fleshy and green. One by one, Their petals splay, Tender to smell And to touch. And all the while The sun rises On weepy skies And wind-choked streets. Brown and decrepit, The grass lies low, As bulbs beyond count Slumber in ground below. Alone, The tulips stand … More Before Their Time

Autumn Dawn

Cold sheets crinkle As I wake On a blood Red dawn. Dry winds pluck The summer Flowers bare. Petals clump In grey heaps In the dirt. My toes are numb. Autumn is here.