Sea Ghost
the song of the ambulance moving through the iron city with a chorus of ancestors circling in it's abrupt wake we will not see home again
By Timothy James Lane2 years ago in Poets
some mornings i wake before the misted rain and rise from the bed as a visitor to myself the voices of the newly dead
a match flares breaching the dark blur of bones two sea-black eyes shimmering inside of the crackling rain I've forgotten my way back
in my own air is a strange light the shadow moves without the body a body I recalled from a summer I spent under the sun of a different eon
I want to think it was love of the kind you are afraid to touch the life I had built and torn apart a life that now moves through me like rain
ten years of smoke on the hands ashes buried deep in the cold, dark ground a bonfire burnished with bursts of laughter
By Timothy James Lane3 years ago in Poets
My hours are falling heavier and longer Shards of empty pots remain scattered about I have forgotten where to find the sacred ground
It is said there are more trees on earth than there are stars in the milky way sunrays sit locked in the cypresses for millennia
the thorn that drew blood grew from the memory of the honey locust I planted we had passed by the stones that once held our names
it has been a dozen years since I read of the massacres men and malice emboldened by metal the numbing numbers of conquest
like many shadows borne a in breath of war we had been orphaned at the tether the beginning bodies of our children lay abandoned
a jellyfish moon engorged warms the velvet of evening which hangs like a vestment obscuring fragments of bone