September 30, 2012

poem 353 of a poem day for 2012

dilating my eyes into your underworld

ten o'clock taps
a few more
drops of blood
and seed-hanging
the skin of rain
with strange fruits
and vines

big laughing jim
and black belladonna
reveal how strong
our cling to Summer
is and was

she ushers memory
into the jars
of gardens
that sit
and wait
in the dark
of a moment
and he is gathering 
momentum gathering need
for the pantry light
to go on

her crimson berries
and tenacious roots
siphon the slow bleed
that moans
beneath the rain
as October nears
into the ease
of another sip 
toward midnight 
as he calls for her      
to lift the veil


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