Saturday, January 11, 2014

Night Maid

At first glance you almost miss her.

The muddied palette of darks -
blue, green, and red, almost blend her
to a smudge of shadows.

But her sword cuts a gleam of light
slantwise through the gloom
of alleys and concrete valleys.

At her heels the reaper lurks,
undercover of her sullied wings,
anticipating flesh slunk into gutters,
the rattle of bones.

She is keeper of the night watch.
Guardian of those lost in the dark.
Time in the Key of Life

That night we were out on the terrace,
listening to the sound of the world.

Wind lifting the trees
and sifting them down again,

party patter from across the street
and two fences over

chiming off the old-gold bowl of heaven
in cream petals.

We could hear the breath of stars
inky blue all around us.

Buttermoon

The moon is butter gold tonight
melting down upon the lake
a soft and creamy path
for us to take.


in the night
we were full of bliss
bliss full.