Thursday, September 4, 2014

Sketches - 17 (August 25th, 2014)

17.


A painting dreams itself still-life
and streets glowing and shadowed
over by midnight street lights
are raw with silence -
               prevailing claustrophobe
                            silence.

Its going to storm.

Lightning flash antics in God’s
clouded over dream sky.
And it's HOURS past twilight,
witching hour midnight in fact,
             
our cat left a dead bird
             by way of gift under one of our
             black chairs out back.


In the toss-for-chance
you never know what you’ll get.
One night, high and lofty as
giants and the next, low
              as worms.


Birds peck at worms, treats
in the mud and gone, most
feeling the migration urge,
flying off to warmer climes -
          change in constant
          like disappearing flapping
          geese V’s squawking
          honking out like packs
          of wild dogs.


(August 25th, 2014)


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