Wednesday, April 5, 2017

The Word

The Word
with the weight of release
waxing woke with a spoken grief
groaning turn of the earth and thief
of the still and the cold and the think
and its cease
of time and not
and name forgot
shaped as naught
close eyes tear chest and trust
new hands wash the world to dust
and dream old fall
and hope all dulls
as skin and ship and horses pale
ride in
cast out a veil
outcast a hole black mass 
of the space of which once was
overtakes in dark and flame
and takes
the coil it snakes
in hand
now shakes try and blink the mind awake
as black waves loom forth and break
and wash away
The Word