Autumnal skies
the sun has smashed his jar of red oil,
on this day of great anger over the earth
I will leave the dainty lettering of the sky
with
this
message heavy as a bobbin of lead
to tell my people what I am told to tell them,
it is the fixed invective of the other shore
and
the heart at this work for the rest of my life,
I shall see no more this sun which totters,
this light which crumples under the slow shadows,
ah!
what are they these things which capsize
in
the sea of my being at the hour of departure?
it is, at the very summit of the soul,
terror before the thousand promises we shall be able to keep.
Leave a comment behind