Friday, January 25, 2013

triple falls

these leaves, they've
been turned over and
around, soft
on the ground and
freckle it with pretty yellows
and oranges and
reds, all flipped from
stem to head.
so bright they burned,
lighting the carolina mountains
like stars behind the stars
in the inky night sky,
those massive pinpricks
of searing fire, burning
out with each brilliant
flicker.
fifteen seasons of
watching leaves die,
since looking in your eyes
that balmy morning at
the back door, the
stars and the leaves
curling at the speed of
their own light;
fifteen seasons of praying
for green, for
rebirth of the color
of forgiveness, of promise;
fifteen seasons and
i have moved on,
and you have moved on,
or at least to places
our flames wouldn't
-couldn't-
ignite inside each other.
fifteen seasons later,
and here we are.
bridging the gap
with silence,
with space,
with feigned ignorance
but
we
are
still
here.
leaves turning, burning
out like stars
behind the stars in the
inky night sky.

~k.

Thursday, January 10, 2013

old crow

stop.

~k.