solemnity solstice

looking West out my window at Autumn's last sunset

there is sorrow in the songs 
of the birds when 
dagger crept shadows 
in slag light, lean preening their molt ...

as Winter begins,  I beg my wobbles  
and wander and wonder 
through my haphazard divinity 
oiling experience through observation 
accidentally or by pretending 
to know there are or are not 
patterns in the chaos  ...

these days, modern warfare is mostly cajole velvet imp-eries 
television and vanishing print devised as subterfuge 
these we must watch and read between the lines 
under the white noise, and then maybe we'll see 
they're beginning to kill the messengers 
one by one all kinds of silent murders 
stones thrown like anti-wishes and prayers de-boned 
in slow dissolve under the tongue bitter feasts 
beneath the near frozen stillness 
of the Hudson river 
as Winter begins ...

the rain is all cut teeth 
message seeking 
bolus and dust 
mountains amble 
off to surrender 
to the seas again 
one grain 
one life 
one thought 
caught at a time ...

what falls is   
all we've lost 
on the way 
to being 
found or not 
when an approaching 
an end ...

my poem head 
in the clouds again 
we both are seeking 
flesh and bones 
another soul 
as Winter begins ... 

EJR ©