August 30, 2012

poem 294 of a poem day for 2012

scimitars, cemeteries and the thinning veils

Autumn is coming
every night now
is arching low
deliberate songs
that dance toward
velvet charms along
the curling yellowed
bled edges of the forests
beyond the fences

the sweet smells of death
are everywhere that
the gated entrances are
in the stoned mosses
with a kept cling of dew
on the ready to become
misty envelopments
while you step toe to ball
to heel with those glances
over the shoulder keeled
as you keep walking toward
what you want to do

the bare turns
the whistled gravity
symphonies in the trees
shedding their leaves
are those spirits
that no longer cage
their stardust with bones
and can find
where your enjoyment is too
so why not smile
in the dark and find me
there along side you
pulling swords
from stones again


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