August 19, 2012

poem 276 of a poem a day for 2012

Sun King morning

in the misty waded reeds
and slung rock mosses
the spill insistence of water
at the edge
of dew heavy grasses
tangles me in white noise
unravels me
from the moorings of night
and those lands
West of Nod
and East of Eden

the dug cold
of this day’s
early embrace
invokes the fires
of Autumn
and those dryad fantasies
of rustling leaves
under the sweet burn
scent of things
bleeding back to the Oaks

early vesper
church bells
are ringing in
the distance
as I squint
while walking
into the icy crowns
between me
and the sky hiding
Venus after the Dawn

like a map of dreams
scrolling back
into the blue bunting
of pocketed things
that don’t weigh
so much on me
I carry my heart
and soul to a rise
where the Moon
can find me


1 comment:

  1. You have created a morning that no one could turn away from....simply and beautifully wonderful x