Late November Revelations
A shattered fragment of sanity
plummets to the Earth
in a blatant show
of disregard
for what could have been.
The lingering notion of solitude
pervades the frigid air
of early winter,
holding the spirit
of icy isolation.
The specter of commitment
fades to vapor,
taken slave
by the distinct November wind,
a template
for notions of regret.
A falling leaf breaks fractiously
from the pack,
stoically reaffirming
that tumultuous breezes
are best handled
alone.
The piquancy of decay
permeates the dusky landscape
of browns and grays
a sinewy cloudscape
juxtaposed by failed beauty
both separating with distinction
by dispersing particles of nightfall.
Inevitability struck harder
than the surprise,
with its constant reminder
that tundra waits
between two paradises,
clutch the gusts of severance
and weather the storm.
Originally published in the Fall 2004 Luna Negra.
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Waiting in the Wind
Late Fall wind whips against the window.
We lay against each other on the couch,
listening to tumultuous gusts without.
Within, we shift closer, breath meeting breath,
comfortable to be removed from November,
more to be together, though it is not to last.
I say, ‘Are you sure you must leave?’
between farewells as we step into the night.
Piquantly decayed leaves leap past our brows.
Environment we previously mocked shouts back.
We emphatically embrace and I let her know
I’ll be waiting here in the wind for her
but she drives into darkness anyway.
Morning, bright again, last night’s brilliant antithesis.
I glance out the window and see gossamer web,
silky thread undulating in the breeze, catching the rays.
Shimmering like hope, a tenuous testament to resiliency
through the gusty times, waiting diligently in the wind.
Originally published in the chapbook Palette of Browns and Grays.
1 comment:
Shimmering like hope, a tenuous testament to resiliency
through the gusty times, waiting diligently in the wind.
always
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