Monday, July 27, 2009

A Year of Poems Day 4

A stride the horse in white, a face,
a man, a figure, a form, a fury, a feeling.
A wave that has swept round the world,
so violently as to wash past all barriers,
so silently as to steal into every house and home.
It seizes every day as if it were the last,
and each victim as if she were the first.

It is a kiss of air, and then,
a sharpness in the chest.
A clutching terror of legion's brood,
more numerous than the buzzing of the flies.
From where it comes, we do not know,
like savannah fire it consumes and burns.
A slash across the face in ancient feud,
new mutiny born within the vessels of our other life.

The embrace that makes, and unmakes,
the raveling coils of the the helix twice
spun of sugar, and of cold fire,
are ripped and stolen by this knife,
that cuts short the thread,
of another life.

No comments:

Post a Comment