It wears the river—Its suit i can see
though i've awakened in mud and nothing. A cave perhaps settled here as i slept and soundlessly—i feel
the thunders of one in suit—outside
the entrance. It
has no lips. The rift—empty
as vacant and i
sway—in each extraction
and retraction of breath and heartbeat.
my pixels ache to leave me here and alone—
turn to soot—a knotted dream.
Called into that gap
as transparency,
to bleach the elms
and dust
the robins within
It.
Beyond this cave-aspens break. i know
not yet consumed—but will be soon. The sun
sets behind the woods—broken and buried
and under—Its refuse dried
limbs and forgotten. Above—the stones
exposed as empty. Cavities
to engulf each piece and every one
as my reflection. i hear
a gnat's death
an airless breath—the beat of wings,
an erasure of sky.
YOU ARE READING
Of Yesterday
Poetry[Completed] Of Yesterday is a poetry collection written over the last decade, and deals intimately with emotions related to loss, grief, love, recovery and renewal. The pictures used in this chapbook are my own photographs, taken and edited personal...
