Sa[l]vage[d] Poetry 1

OtM-or-WttT

Ode to Memory

    -or-

      Woe to the Taker…

Lives in the folds

 the flash of

   light against

 the cavity

   in crinkled

    aluminum.

There is so

   much to tell

 so much is

    Lost in the

      telling

Reprieve:  the

      retelling

How can the

   wind take

    away the

     thoughts

…Without leaving

  something in

    its wake.

The love hit

  Windwise

   in the

 face, through

   the hair.

A dark Dawn

waiting for the

      light

She's supersticious

   that way

  …I know

     So am I.

But the darkness

  overcomes

 and the cruelty

   beckons

Join it

   Join it

 Join …

The wind's

     voice:

    "Join

    Con-join"

The answer:

  Not an

   imperitive,

 an observation:

You've already

    joined.

"Escape"

 in whisper

  escapes her

   lips

  — into

   the wind.

I didn't hear

    (of course)

  but I knew

    (of course)

Her post-cards

  are dragons

  in my subconscious.

The good kind.

Sometimes the

  whisper on

   the wind — —