monday poetry train, Saturday Scribes

exile

Saturday Scribes: theme-midway; words-dappled, fearsome, firefly;
and, monday poetry train; photo: After the Rain, gcquinn, flickr

when the weather began to wane
a cool shivering breeze
melodiously rattled the sleeping bones
scattered among sweet scented grass

at the end unnoticed, a one-way street
no longer surrounds the terminated buried beneath
daily the rusted ancient gate again stirs
eagerly guards the passage portal

dallying dusk discoveries
emancipate moored moans, soft mad wails
kept from the light wind that travels so much further
late afternoon, heat released
as day drifts toward the western sky canvas

rich characters yield a brush
dappled in rosy pink and perfect gray purple
giving way to the entrance of night
sifting the stars, falling flashes, twilight beckons

as if able, the despondent bones
would will the fearsome rotted flesh
back home where night brings
one firefly then another to soothe the story

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4 thoughts on “exile

  1. Hello, I come in peace on the Monday Train.

    I am not a ticket collector, either. I really don’t want to awaken those in exile, here. Call me cautious.

    This is a lovely swirl of words crossing the corporeal and the once was, the quick, the dead, and the desires.

    And it is quite fun to read.

    Thanks for sharing this.

    Tschuess,
    Chris

  2. lots to take in, I think there is a layer of meanings to each formed sentences, makes me think of people who are left behind to mourn for those who are gone or perhaps the reverse – the long gone wishing for the living, the mention of “sleeping bones” perhaps makes me think of this

writing is everything...

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