April 20, 2013

NaPoWriMo 2013 # 20...





we turn to play, we say yes in movies

my one nimble hand
captured jacks
with one high bounce
a scoop then swipe
the story hints
were numbered
aside chalked
little boxes
one atop the next
a square dimension
I mention
to life as a circle
of possible
an arc of my character
and covenant
one act leading
into another
on a sidewalk stage
one warm
Spring day

there are angels
at the bedsides
of all the poets
they know
we move to pictures
we are very much
conduits and old souls
we knife time
to expression
we speak as rivers
cutting valleys
covered with trees
we reveal ourselves
to be families
friends and
pictures of who
in rings
we know names
before screaming
from water to air
declaring ourselves
human again
for seventy
to eighty
odd years
faceless
we were angels
too, once here

owls are said
to protect the night
outside our windows
where mystery
is still the law
of unnamed dark
the nocturnal scurry
rodent guarded
tragic elements
and minions of doubt
are capable of mayhem
we dream in color
to ward them off
and though
they are not as illustrious
as Elphaba's flying monkeys
the rat bastard
naysayers
are a stealthy lot
and as such
cause need
for entire forests
of bedside angels
angles the owls take
when they swoop
clutch back bent
folding open wings
to slow time
enough to capture
just enough light
from the dark offstage
to guide us through
to the bow and
curtain closing music 
at every Dawn


EJR ©

2 comments:

  1. Swoops and dives like an angel owl... Love it!! xo

    ReplyDelete
  2. 'we were angels
    too, once here...'

    yes, everything come in a circles,
    but hard to get out of them...

    ReplyDelete