birds.

remember?,
drawing them
against white skies,
two lines
graffited,
an awe
to the kids we were...?

i really
love birds,
their chirping a
winged colourway.

early morning,
a robin,
dark orange chest,
dead,
laying there,
on the door step.

i never remember
that birds do die
and their flight.

night fell,

clouds
crowding
a tumultuous sky.

in the darkening far,
houses alight into homes.

near, top of the hill,
bells await
enrobed
in the lit silence
of the tower,
lighthouse
in a darkening dark.

time
will pass by,
hurrying,
carried by the
echoed ringing
into a dissipated horizon.

far, far,
the stroke,
the echo,

reverberations
cradling
some melody
on loneliness.

Dawn,
birthing the world.

Light and dark,
the color hue
- hills and plains,
trees and gardens
and roads and country roads
and old cored places
and not so old ones.

Breeze,
warmness,
cold,
shivers
and melancholy.

Just it all.
Inhaling it.
Figuring it
as a last sight,
exhaling.

dystopian land,
the kingdom
of selffullness service,

the place
to grow
heroic egos

or

cursings
on regrets.

service
by one's pleasure.

instantaneous and soluble,
for reality dissolution.

My habits are recognisable in
  the other me
  younger me
  still toothy me.
But they're not yet habits, they're just
  experiences
  or experiments
  expectations, perhaps.
Slowly passing one round finger
through a candle's flame -
a flicker, but no real heat.
Suddenly it isn't
  a first chord
  first love
  or first drink;
all those vampires we once invited,
they don't forget which thresholds
they can and cannot cross -
now they come and go
as they please.
Can't we?

The park gates keep the tangled
strands of street and brick away
from nature's pristine, geometric ways.

Grandiose, perhaps, with all the stone
and ironwork - why do we need a clear
divide? Is it pride? Should we marvel

at how far we've come from our earliest moments in primordial ****? Or perhaps
beneath the steely geese, dark water hides

a deeper fear - the knowledge we can never
tame the beast inside that bares its teeth.
We'll never know; the park gates close.