as we number by paints
a portrait yesterday lost
lift away the colors ocean
to etch sands into seas
she echoes facets in faces
mirrors song in her dream
i am many, they say
i am paper of lions
i am menagerie
Category: writing
menagerie
Photo by Ismael Sánchez on Pexels.com dead ends
Photo by Peter Herrmann on Unsplash hallways wandering
puckish laughter and
you know i am a fool
for shadows and light
in play
but i tire of dead ends
with glamour and lure
bare wrists exposed
waiting for light’s knife
across aging skinestranged of night
Photo by HARALD PLIESSNIG on Unsplash estranged of night
citrus rot, bitter nuts
no one trusts a scry
wipe away these eyes
fevered thrum pounding
a head song drumming
tongue void tasting
shadows on shadow veil
sacred in the fallow
winds sweep the stone
for rainmemento
Photo by Aleksandr Gorlov on Unsplash peeling back my birch paper
with the breath of the wind
what pussy willows sway grey
then?
clear water slipshifts of lake
to stream and i wonder
of where it wanders to fill
surrendering
to slate, feather, bone
peel off a piece of pale
and hold it as your own
a memento to my stonevampires
Photo by Dariusz Sankowski on Unsplash all the pretty young vampires
and some even old —
lurking in the shadows
vying for ways to avoid sun
i wish my finger were a gun
that blasted away the scrims
these bloodsuckers hide
themselves behind and
daylight their pestilence awayof wilds
Photo by Wes Hicks on Unsplash Previously posted on sceadugenga.com on 18mar25. Reposted with audio.
going back to the real
hands smudged black
and dirt under nails
gravel yellow crush
i listen at forests for
wisdom crowing loud
leave to crowds where
crowds are wont to go
enough of deaf gods mute
i am not what they need
left to wending paths
through silent sentinels
gone to follow the calltide cold carry
Photo by Connor DeMott on Unsplash standing grey
heron stone tall
can you carve the
shape of me?
can you carry the
weight of me?
slate skies over
of the under below
mouth to mouth
sends us to hum
mouth to mouth
cages winter sun
i fever weary
slaked in slick
slaked in foam
beyond threes of three
tide cold carry me
tide cold carry me homewood and wode
Photo by HARALD PLIESSNIG on Unsplash with flames burning
bright in his head
he wanders woodward
his wodewose embraced
in feather and bone and
of ash and of stone
he slips between
shadow and shade
that lailoken of lake
and of forests aglowtangled
tangled christine &
soldiers marching tin
on shadows & smoke
with eyes casting stars
--how bright they are
a shower glittershines downcairn & cattails
Photo by Nicole Elliott on Unsplash crow calling at trees
a name of her buried
of cairn and cattails
rushes in the breeze
windswept waters
wrinkle at their song
so, too, the waving of
hellebore between
shadow and sun
