Coyote’s  mournful  cries  echo  across  
the  bitter  frozen  wi­ntry  darkness

A deepening silence thrums as loudly
as the echoes the unanswered bays

Snowflakes mute the fading wails
coyote’s softly questioning appeals

An eerie answerless hush echoes
                                  through the boughs,

writhing  in the  piercing frigid 
                                  wildwood blackness

The howling east wind gathers in
the throes of the lonely bespoken pleas

Carrying the weight borne a bone chilling
silent ache, beyond with the frozen autumn leaves


                                                 *wild is the wind ... December 8th, 2016

.
I cradle my head
in my palms

There's an inerasable vision
of hearts and bones
inwoven in a spider web

Untied forget-me-nots
writhing disentanglement

A collage of all the dead roses ,
tawny petals bestrewn across
a fallow frozen mind-scape ;

hidden behind eye-lid's
hesitantly arising curtain

just like a noir movie screen

I saw love disfigure me


                                                       *wild is the wind ... December 4th, 2016

.
In an anthem of doubt
the wind song resonates
passionately through
natures’ cocooned embrace ,
          heart’s echoes manifest
                    thrive and bear fruit.
                    unspoken hearts enflamed
                    in poetic supplications ,
          soul rejuvenation ,
a flake of love sown
a spark of hope evident
a burning bonfire
metamorphosed ,  
wildfire fanned by the muse
          a shameless passion

                    insatiated thirst
                    unsatiated taste buds
                    a hungry heart craving ,
          an unsatisfied desire
to be spellbound
the moment of love
at long last ,
imbibed in deepest
heart subsisting coddle ,
          held like life sustaining breath

                    take me to your secret throne
                    lead me down
                    your garden pathway moans ,
          where all your secrets will be known ,
let me taste the beauty
of your naked sacred stone ―
please don’t make me wait forever
                    longing to be warm
                    in the frigid cold aloneness
                    curling my back
         to a fading  memory
         where you used to lie at dawn ...




         *wild is the wind  11. 27. 2016

Too roughly hewn and cleaved around edges frayed
shaped and reshaped by these own calloused hands

I realize the shape of things ,... who I am ... who I've become ―
The sound of my own raw voice knows not convention ;
it was nothing more than words of fragmented tomes exposed

Only the broken wind covering footprints on the road not taken
on a never ending journey into a lonely abyss

These greatest fears I've come to know ;
my greatest weakness bared and borne
                                        broken dreams bought and sold,
                                        for less than they were worth.

In the chill of this winter darkness grown cold
a newly recurring silence echoes poignantly,.. 
                                                  ­             redux
                                                          f­orevermore
                                                           self-loathed
                                                               déjà vu ―
       
                                The only dream's fruition ever feared:

                     to walk alone at that predestined parting moment

                         within a stones throw of six feet underground ,...

                                 dropping to these knees at a threshold

                                              well-nigh left behind,

                            knocking at the door that leads beyond  ―  

                        never needing to know how to say goodbye …


                                 thinking out loud ... 11. 29. 2016