BACK | HOME
SUBSCRIBE
Advertise on poetryREpairs
PS : Sponsor Poetry visit Poetry Sponsors
|
JAN 11, METRO each branch, wet jeweled, crystalline, pellucid. There will be no moon hurrying in blackness past the pond, the geese huddled in thickets, fog camouflaging what I would 2. if there was snow raccoons would be foraging thru snow banks, the stones by the pond buried, mounds big as cows. Rain jewels on the tree a nest hangs on tight in the black branch's crotch would be invisible in its white footsteps, missteps, what nobody wanted under the white roof of sleep 3. no one doesn't look colorless as the not-even-dove sky. Fog. Tips of ragged branches dissolve. I need the glitz of Keats' words. I need the blue, his blue, a sky blue as eyes tucked under dead leaves, closer now than when we were close. Even then it was like talking to someone in a casket 4. each branch, wet jeweled, crystalline, pellucid. There will be no moon hurrying in blackness past the pond, the geese huddled in thickets, fog camouflaging what I wish I could
copyright LYN LIFSHIN
