April 21, 2015

#NaPoWriMo 2015 no.21

image by Edward Rinaldi ©

I would then crawl the broken glass mandalas 
(this new me, this empty me)

I was an old fashioned 
young and selfish, 
the garden would claim

she said something like
"this is it"...and
there we were 
waving goodbye 
through a chain link fence 

the pine lined driveway 
was where we began 
it led to the pool house 
where everything we were
was now between us becoming 
nothing left to be said

we were just
two bodies, silent 
in waiting form 
wanting what
I thought 
we still had had

a blindness
in each other
an absolution 
a way 
a separation

or at least 
I was 
this way
crowded with 
lies to myself 
always swearing 
truth is unknown 
in times like these 

I became 
an animal mouth 
the beginnings 
of words 
the rhythm
of a breath 
music I had clearly hoped 
I would never have to dance to

my exhales 
became instruments
heavy bends and me 
windward-ly, I tried to beat clocks
leaning backwards
drift pulsed into the scars 
of Winter left on the fields 
ravenous sirens burning
me to bear witness

the Spring was 
calling to the land 
this always reminded me
to be waiting the wades
for exits and entrances
one never knew when 
they were ever going to be 
apart from a part of thee

gathered sticks were piled 
became early layman street signs
to plow, till and rake
painting aches in the loam
traffic lines for my lives 

I knew 
I was seedy
another young lover 
not recognizing
I had lost my bloom 
I was not 
nearly ready 
to turn over 
a new leaf 
not nearly ready 
to die 
and be born again
any time soon


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