One can see something familiar
Underneath it all
As though the cares of the day
Are but sticks to be thrown on the fire.
Burn your way clear of it all and put from yourself
All those empty worries
Shed it all.
Breathe life into your tragedies; cocoon them
Outlive them and outpace
Their best efforts to bring you down.
You kept all the old hearts you broke
Yours to define and to win
Yours to tether and to skin
Now you only breathe smoke
Now you only think for real after a toke
Now you’re nothing like you were
You’re a smudge and you’re a blur
What’s ceased and gone is worth a lifetime black wardrobe
Mourner mistaken for faker in his high castle of solitude.
I ask my
If these are to be our variables
If this line describes
If these letters define
I walked home with my books
In evening’s pastel blue
November’s chill compelled me
To hurry past the view.
Yet grey clouds stood like mountains
Beyond the city’s light,
The far off traffic winking
And autumn’s leaves in flight.
The laughter of the jackdaws
Was sweet as choir song,
But yet evening was dying
And night would not be long.
The hills were green and silent
Beneath the fading light.
The moon shone brightly, clearly,
Yet birds were still in flight.
And as I passed a stranger
Who might have been a friend,
I dipped my head to greet him –
He did not comprehend.
So on I walked, and neared my street
With orange leaves beneath my feet
And found my restlessness was lost
With weary legs the only cost.
The trees like towers, tall and wild
The night descending, daytime’s child,
I brought my eye to sky at last –
But evening had already passed.