Thursday, November 3, 2011

November Muse

Crisp, clear, cool.  
As if one's breathe were its first.  
Floating crystals of morning frost, burning bright in sun lit skies.  
Raw, edged, a blade in the darkness of a shadow.  I am shaded by a thought.  
How fluorescent is the dawn?
In a dream my eyes awoke, starved for sensation, 
pupils dilated, take in, drink in.  
Oh this fall morning, for I am mourning.  
Lost again is the Autumn, flora struck by Ra's flame,
but now as a knife in the dark, winter plants its poison.
Lost again, is the Autumn, again I wait for spring.

A frame of glass has captured me.
Contain my soul, my essence,
one frosted piece.
To you I gave all, one leaf on the ground
You held me close, would not let go.
I froze to death, in pleasures touch.
You must remember,
I must forget.

Do you see, there through the trees?
I'm watching, waiting.
Can you see, there through the trees?
A hope, a prayer.
Feel a thought, a look, a wish?
Muted emotion, dull of blade and light.
Please, please, do not take flight.

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