Saturday, October 15, 2016

and I watched the world

and I watched the world
as it turned over in the bed of time

the leaves turned to gold
and vanished   into the expenditures of the season

and snow fell
while the wind walked about the padlocked land

the chains of ice were placed about the marsh mouth
and the cattails whimpered as the whips came down scarring them


all the prisoners in their frozen jail cells muttered rebellion
but the footprints in the path      were tracks into nothingness

the obliterated world   and the casket of the garden
all the houses donned their sleeping gowns

and the hats of snow were placed
on their dignified heads    the fence bears the change

from empty to full
as if the stone posts were armoured and shelled


and where might you be?
all the outlines of the fir tree stand starkly before me

each pencilled in snow line     is clear like bones fluorescent 
and in the forest the limping leaves clutch the arms

of every branch before falling to their doom
the murky light in the bowl of ice  leaks out

the hard red rose hips that shudder blood and thorns
each sinking sun          there is no escaping this knife of cold

winter preaches immortality 
while cleaving life from all     the grasses slip into silence

the fir tree raises her arms in supplication
and the aspens shout their rebellion    but it is too late 

I will walk in the midst of death
and remember resurrection    that rebirth that is so far away

spring will hollow out these cheeks of snow
but for now    the winter landscape blooms heretic and coughs

great spirals of snow into my face
the roads filter death   and the hard work of survival begins

how to endure the long tunnel of night?
how to slip out from warmth into the freezing light?

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