Tag Archives: aubades

Aubade with Broken Fingers

  She’s doing some aching again, greeting the day with open hands and a moaning heart, starting a song on this sky piano with knuckles lost to greater fights. She’s right at the center of that rising sun, mourning loss … Continue reading

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aubade wrapped in tomorrow’s skin

.. before the sun stretches hot and bold, we hold one last gaze at the nothingness of fickle fallen stars. .. twiglet #64.     

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Perhaps She is the Thumbprint of Some Wayward Queen

.. You say to talk about her in a new way and I must tell you I am exhausted. She exhausts me. My nouns. My verbs. My inky veins. I have quilled her a thou -sand poems in paper sky, … Continue reading

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Aubade for the A.M.

… Morning breaches too soon, and the moon bids us farewell. That tangerine swell from the east says night has fallen to the other side, pried its dark hands from this horizon. We sway north, question our own salt, and … Continue reading

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morning night light

(an aubade tanka) .. one last stolen kiss. watch that fading sky; oh, see? silver filament looped to invisible strings, moon rewires herself to sea.   .. prompted by poetic asides. 

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A Confusion of Crows

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end. – Closing Time, by Semisonic   .. We talk a dark string from twilight to dawn, one last strand holding onto nothing and everything. And they (they three) just sit there … Continue reading

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aubade with a broken bloom

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) – E.E. Cummings ..   april … Continue reading

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Renovating Dawn

(an aubade) .. There weren’t quite enough clouds to stir up that crimson purple rose blush sort of sky cauldron, and the tangerine shine of rising yolk sun was acceptable, at best. Cue more birdsong. Cut the traffic din. Maybe … Continue reading

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.. long my waiting into morning hope, a hum of blossomed breeze   ..

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Specter Moon

(an Aubade)   .. Dawn breaks us open, unspoken and changed, rearranged. We say our goodbyes, our last gull cries, our vast pulled tides and ardent waves. Sun rises; moon falls, a balance like breathing. She’s nothing but a ghost … Continue reading

Posted in aubades, dVerse poems, moon poems, Quadrille | Tagged , , , , , , | 18 Comments