September 6, 2012

poem 310 of a poem a day for 2012

 de-glazing for one 

I've bowled and served
my regard to eat
as if my hunger
were oars 
in deep waters
tilling every skin 
of its desire

the sticky air outside
wants to get in as if
humidity is a bridge
in the gloaming
out there wanting
for a wish or two
to escape the din
of crickets in kept cages
and lucky strike boxes
cuffed in the bustle
of seeing time squared
on a coat checked
ticket in my
shirt pocket
that assures me
my fortune
is tied to my faith
of purpose in this
whistle stop river town

ghost coal hulls
slake along
the river’s moorings
quietly gathering pieces
of every memory
in my exhales while
September is bleeding
the ancient symphonies
of needing more
wool more wood
more seed more
flesh inside
the glass jars
I’ve wax sealed 
and put away
for the snowy days
in the pantry store
behind the kitchen

and I am at the table 
with one chair
and a candle lit
as the last of Summer 
is adrift and coming in 
as a late leaning waft
over the window sill

and just beyond
the curtain billow
a saucier lingers
glazed in a savory fond
that says this meal
with a glass of wine
was meant to leave
you here reaching
back out to where
the song of tomorrow
is a sauce, waiting
in that pan
over there
on the stove top
for some of
that wine too


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