Tuesday, 12 May 2009

• planets. a poem

  planets.

  
  

  she sat at the window and she stared through

  just a dog, an animal, a brain and a body

  and as I came up behind her she turned

  looking into me with those brown eyes

  had seen the world, watched it’s dance

  and her gaze pierced me, a hazy clarification

  she spoke and I listened collapsed on the floor

   

  it’s the world done this to me, she said

  it’s the way the sun falls each day, on strings

  and the way the cars pull out of the driveways

  and the way the skyline lights up closer

  and how carbon’s road map finds us all,

  she said. and breathed

   

  now not the sundown, life cycles and asphalt cooling

  but the fragile evening cutting glances

  disappearing, holding the shadows and

  the faded blue under the weight of night

  sent me into tears, and I stood retreating

  temperature change and rough concrete

  the sky sang and the dog followed me

  she sang along, I continued in silence

   and in the company of revelations

   

  moisture soaked my back, grass scratched my arms and

  the clouds that spilled rain earlier were looming grey

  only because of the sun and vision

  I turned to my side to explain this to the dog

  but she was gone and the air was thin

  I had died but hadn’t known it

  and the world was still

   while the atmosphere stretched on

  
  

  • 9:47 PM
  • 10 Views
  • 2 eProps
  • 1 Comment