grey-blue
my day’s first sight.
the chest lid opens
for a moment;
through my ungilded pane,
golden light.
covers not of cotton
hold me in a sleepy state;
alarming sounds outside,
mechanical monsters
speeding by - i should
charge a different rate.
washed and dressed,
the coffee steeped.
brown stains spatter
the porcelain platter;
a tacky canvas that
pitcher-dribble reaped.
your scent-leavened my room;
now i’m just citrus and oak.
(a lonesome, near empty glass,
speckled by dried bubbles)
like spindrift from waves,
hazy memories, smoke –
i return to the edge of my bed
rain filling the gutter,
sounding the roof
pans of metal, mossy
cakes softening the tap-tap- tap.
– lightheaded, I shudder
what were the last words
you wept? a final stinging truth.
filling the void of a clear-cut
heart is now overnight trick;
succession may give me roots,
like my hemlock and alder youth.
Apr 6, 2017
Apr 6, 2017 at 9:10 PM UTC
grey-blue
my day’s first sight.
the chest lid opens
for a moment;
through my ungilded pane,
golden light.
covers not of cotton
hold me in a sleepy state;
alarming sounds outside,
mechanical monsters
speeding by - i should
charge a different rate.
washed and dressed,
the coffee steeped.
brown stains spatter
the porcelain platter;
a tacky canvas that
pitcher-dribble reaped.
your scent-leavened my room;
now i’m just citrus and oak.
(a lonesome, near empty glass,
speckled by dried bubbles)
like spindrift from waves,
hazy memories, smoke –
i return to the edge of my bed
rain filling the gutter,
sounding the roof
pans of metal, mossy
cakes softening the tap-tap- tap.
– lightheaded, I shudder
what were the last words
you wept? a final stinging truth.
filling the void of a clear-cut
heart is now overnight trick;
succession may give me roots,
like my hemlock and alder youth.
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