Concepts – Page 27

near enough to see
daylight fading to the point
where the rain begins
–
tending the garden-
raindrops warm
on my neck

the late august sky-
from behind the thinning clouds
unfamiliar stars
–
the dead of night-
a pewter moon
rising

alone on the dock-
staring into the remnants
of the setting sun
–
skipping stones-
bats take wing
before the moon

standing in a queue
at the end of my patience
quite unlike this line
–
wind blown sagebrush-
the road I’m on ends
at the horizon

dwelling in the past-
bricked up in this house of pain
my arm, my jailer
–
a wasp’s sting-
repeated lies
no longer told

empty eyes soulless-
sliding down the razors edge
between life and death
–
soft rattles-
promises of release
in the tall grass

awake and alone
the contours of your body
still fresh in my sheets
–
a startled thrush-
impressions left
in the tall grass

much have I witnessed
during my earthly journey
and I am humbled
–
etched in stone-
recounting our
shared history

the sky badly bruised
sitting beneath the mottled
colors of sundown
–
roiling-
iron clouds
hanging low

with the setting sun
purple ink spreads across the
paper of the night
–
coming darkness-
the ravens gather
on my roof