July 27, 2003

• TO BE LOST IN WANDERING
  
  Walk with me,
  Please walk with me
  In the shadows of the orchards,
  The dappled ranks of
  Their steadily marching doppelgangers,
  Here with the raucous councils of crows
  Haranguing the passerby.
  Shall we wait for twilight’s muster,
  Where fleets of gilded dragonflies
  Haze the air with flashes
  Of gossamer sunlight filtered
  Through the painful web of wings?
  Or instead pound breathless
  Through the tunneling rows
  Spread starkly and draped in
  A bony shade of blue
  While the heat fills our nostrils.
  The dogs cry to the thumping
  Of distant bass,
  The zapper hums and crackles
  Its cackling sighs of death.
  Which is yours,
  The desperate day
  Smothered in a golden filter
  And painful in a yearning glory
  That hurts for embrace and company,
  Or the muggy night
  Cramped between rows of hangman’s plums,
  Soaked in the panicked sweat of dreams
  Fleeing from their weeping makers.
  

  • 10:08 pm
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