Some yellow has gone,
bleeding in the valley.
Night lisps forward,
soft as ether,
as blossoms of bay laurel.
The moon stains the east,
& errant glimmers
founder in the cloud ditches.
The trees gather ice,
pages of silence,
smeared with identity.
Let this winter end
with an escape -
let this blood gallop
from black lots filled
with daggers of self.
Move me to
the necklace of river -
away from this inheritance
that stirs the dark.
Jan 10, 2021
Jan 10, 2021 at 6:35 PM UTC
Some yellow has gone,
bleeding in the valley.
Night lisps forward,
soft as ether,
as blossoms of bay laurel.
The moon stains the east,
& errant glimmers
founder in the cloud ditches.
The trees gather ice,
pages of silence,
smeared with identity.
Let this winter end
with an escape -
let this blood gallop
from black lots filled
with daggers of self.
Move me to
the necklace of river -
away from this inheritance
that stirs the dark.
