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Tag Archives: aubades
Somebody switched on the skylights too soonand the moon slipped out of her own silhouette and we have yet to find a way to make her stay. I am already mourning stars, all pinpricked hope and other tiny ways to wish … Continue reading
(minor) morning breaks her open, flames too soon. she’s already mourningdarkness, stars and a sinking treble-trembled moon.
morning breaks us open, and we ponder dragon-breath clouds and all that crimson fire. we’ve already held these miles between our teeth and found them too salty, too muddled-much for day’s embrace. the sky’s a quiet place to trace our last good -byes. ::Linda’s got a great word … Continue reading
the day cracks open with a scarlet smile to hide its mourning. that first bird caw is the empty gnaw of displaced dark. we wanted more. we wanted all. we wanted whole moon-light, not that evil Cheshire cat smile broken fingernail crescent scar now fading. ::In April, we poem.
:: And suddenly the day’s cracked open like a broken storm,with me alone at center. :: In November, we poem. This one’s an aubade.
The day cracks open (again) too soon, all broken yolk goo and too-bright sky. She wasn’t quite finished with that silken moon, the silver-blackeyed promises of stars. It’s got sharp edges and a bird-song sting, too many things and not enough salt. ::PAD, day 22.
Crack open that bright blue dawn and watch the sun yawn and stretch again, begin to light our f(l)ight. We raise wings and sing, abide in deeper things than the morrows and sorrows of this place. This day, we find grace in the staying. :: it’s Quadrille … Continue reading
We forget her scar -let dress is just for early risin’, surprisin’ us with all its crimson silk applause. Pause, take a second ………..look , and book a table for two near the horizon. .. Prompted by Poetic Asides. … Continue reading