A Cargo of Green Hearts
~POEMS~
Today my bear self slipped out the back door
didn't even close it behind him, let the wind in to rattle the house with its pointy, cold teeth. Wrecked the neighbor's compost bin on the way into the darkness that enveloped him the way a secret envelopes lips and stamps them with a shudder. Left what was left of me to go about the trudge of life: work, chores distractions. See, when my animal leaves me in this mortal hull, leaves me to the tame sparrows that will peck out my eyes, leaves me with the jigsaw puzzle language and head crowded with marquee scripts, it's a warning: time to burn something maybe. Time to go down into the basement and roar until the house trembles like a temporary heart. Time ride the bear two fists of fur and face of brambles into the cave under the lake where the dead are busy making souls and the Night washes Her sun-frayed garments. Nothing is more profound than the sight of a bear kneeling beneath the earth of my love. A shattering of logic, the kind of opening Night requires in order to whisper the secret code that unlocks the coffin for so long I've pretended was a life. Comments are closed.
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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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