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Description
The windswept sky, dusted delicately
Like chalkboards in July classrooms,
Motes sifting through our fingertips and
Settle—muted autumn leaves—in pools of amber
Light, and I watch the koi glimmer.

There’s something bone-bare about
This weather, something I can’t name on
The first bites of winter frost, his lips
Blue and murmuring, “I’d bring you
Gifts in the snowdrifts, those wanderers
Left behind amid fading prints, eyes
Softly shut by my ice-flakes”.

The wind howls to the day-time moon;
I stand at where the wall tumbles into
The storm-grey sea, wild lands rolling beige and
Ebony dark, cloud shadows flitting,
White birds racing towards the northern star.

I stand at the pass and wonder what
Lies beyond, where the Earth balks abruptly
Before my bare toes and I peer down, eyes
Swimming with infinities, thinking would
This leap of faith be the end
Or a new dimension altogether
(What’s the difference?)

Description
The windswept sky, dusted delicately
Like chalkboards in July classrooms,
Motes sifting through our fingertips and
Settle—muted autumn leaves—in pools of amber
Light, and I watch the koi glimmer.

There’s something bone-bare about
This weather, something I can’t name on
The first bites of winter frost, his lips
Blue and murmuring, “I’d bring you
Gifts in the snowdrifts, those wanderers
Left behind amid fading prints, eyes
Softly shut by my ice-flakes”.

The wind howls to the day-time moon;
I stand at where the wall tumbles into
The storm-grey sea, wild lands rolling beige and
Ebony dark, cloud shadows flitting,
White birds racing towards the northern star.

I stand at the pass and wonder what
Lies beyond, where the Earth balks abruptly
Before my bare toes and I peer down, eyes
Swimming with infinities, thinking would
This leap of faith be the end
Or a new dimension altogether
(What’s the difference?)