all your memories become
crumbs for the birds
flakes for the paint
erasers for pain
crimes to be
reminded of
after clocks have run down
into sand
each loop repeats
time, love, emptiness
the phone is silent
in the brittle fade of lost language
the shadows lope and fade
like new lovers
with old feelings
interesting
with distance
the little things that fall
into cracks
with time
that split apart even a great tree
a natural failure
neither fable nor forgotten dreams
pick over corpses
lay down over fault lines
the sun burns right through
blue eyes to brown eyes
like the young holding a gun
but each weapon is traded for a cane and
eventually, illumination
you don't need to wonder why
each dawn comes announced by paler colors
in its own way we become
wreckage
scrape by through storms and age
to feel until
there are no more feelings
left to feel
or to get back up
somehow and carry what you have
or grow a pair of wings
god forbid we learn to fly
together.
No comments:
Post a Comment