I. Winter
A collection of nights
lying cold
in tall pines
where the sky
folds
into wine before
dark carves a hollowed
ledge.
Drift snow catches
boughs
bright greens
clawing their way
from a white grave.
I have been here before
in the dream
broken and hazed
on the blurred
brink.
Breath shudders in
icy strands
pushing hard through
thickets
to empty alders
on the hill.
Hinged lips release the
scream
lost beneath
lying frozen
like
stars.
II. Sunrise
In a falling shade
tipped clear
As wind rolls
Up the peak to
catch a break breath
dawn
I am shrill
in fire notes
red
on the horizon
as the valley floor
arches
to the sky.
III. Fall
wayfarers
on the edge
of a
farthing
place
leaves
falling red
orange
in
pieces
holding hands
like
drifters
on our
silent
way.
IV. Remembrance
It is the end
of day
last light
fades
drawing haze
in circles
grey
as exhaled
air
with nowhere
left
to hide from
you
tripping
memories like
wire
relics from
before the
fall
of man and
mind
weaving
slow gin
dreams
of waking
in leaves
bits of
a
slipping-down
life.
V. Of Pines and Men
We fade like sky
falling blue-black
through fir branches
as night closes
swallowing
greens
in long shadow.
Relics
of you and I
standing
atop a hill
silent
as stones
in grey basalt.
You slipped through me
grasping
fingers tip by tip
beneath trees
towering
spires
above the dirt.
I could not look in your eyes
and you looked past mine
until the air fell
quiet
heavy
beneath our breath.
I swept your ashes into mine
gathering
broken love
like glass.
VI. Frozen
here in the thaw of
winter
i am frozen in
myself
a twig entombed
hollow
melting in its quiet
death
looking out on
fallow leaves
hiding silent
under
ice.
YOU ARE READING
Elms In The Boneyard
Poetry...a collection of poems exploring notions of time, place, and the inner emotive mind.
