A Cargo of Green Hearts
~POEMS~
I will not let myself
die in the fall, will not lie down in the beige leaves and eat frost will light my shirt on fire first, will eat squirrels if I must, will tear off the roof and expose myself to the eye of the moon. the sorrow itself like a bear will drag me through winter. it will rearrange me so that I will not fit into my own coffin. my grief will be that preposterous. let the dead men among you laugh at my fingernails. my madness is green and thawed. the sweeter this struggle the more fertile the spring. in this November
dark, anything could be happening outside a murder, a council of bears, ghosts skating on their bones over the pond. now and then the moon tips her silver crown or goes dark, her cipher tongue inking the influence that we feel but do not see. shut-windowed and warm, there is nothing to fear here but old age and shame, both things we should have outgrown. I do not know what I will face tomorrow-- our world is backward to nature; the night has grown quiet and unselfish; the day has become devastating as paper. what will take us will come unexpectedly as an attorney invading lunch. please forgive me for siding with the dark and for running my fingers down the thigh of sleep; there is too much I prefer not to wake up to. |
Poetry LogPoems are posted here when I'm ready to share them. I often don't title my poems. The date you see above the poem may be the date it was posted here and not necessarily the date it was created. To see more, click on the Archives below. Archives
January 2020
CategoriesUnless otherwise noted, all content ©Paul-William Gagnon, Creative Commons Attribution-Non Commercial-NoDerivs license.
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