Thursday, February 9, 2012

One sonnet and one almost sonnet

A Sonnet in Memory of Small Wings

of black wings settled live on her shoulder,

of memory dark with the night of all

unlived,

I sing a requiem. Tears fall

as some sunsets never do. I saw her

pass by on her little

clouded feet, ev’n

talked, quickly - violently fell, unfurling

voraciously dove into eyes of

burning

copper, alive with a mercy, to leave

my heart un-emptied. To leave me stay whole,

from blooded feet, floundering

a thousand

frozen miles over mountains maw - respite

from the red impaling crush of a soul

Sinking in, sucking bone,

like light

like sand

Into a supernova.

What light! What light!

Part 2, sort of a sonnet.

What tearing joy to be rent asunder

by beautiful passions and noble

Deaths! Oh,

what faulted, perfect love it is

To live! She smiled to me – against my tender

Cheek where I burn deeper than scars recall,

And I blinked, heard her ruffled feathers flutt’r,

Shuttered

to fall, to stir anew and dance

Themselves,

to laugh and weep the way pearls do,

So quiet and blue.

I , grounded albatross

Of broken porcelain pieces, I lay

Blinded, did pray for flight forsaken

, know

She has gone and I have not pained not died

Or lived.

For such un-birthed sorrows of her

Cruel un-colored sort of mercy, I sing.

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