Bend the Moon
On sturdy legs, with puffy chin a
Brother stood amid the squalid pleasure of winter’s lesser
Expectations: “this is all seeming, is it not?”
Yes, that is what he saw that moment ago;
It hit me to the heart.
What can one revisit?
What dare do eye to open sight that door
Which only few can pass
in a Deep residual February’s dreaming?
One moment he was watching TV,
The next a spindle dart of time cracked
his temples through…
He walked a god, a long and terrible city
Block where his brothers dreams decayed;
Snow clinging to his feats;
Unto me he say: “Open hearth, warmth are wonders
On display – on all that matters, on all that is
Yet to come…
Sanguine pride bubble forth! Up from
All I least expect, unto all I say – pass the lips and mouth,
Pass the stillness, the sanctity, the blunders in this play;
Pass all that is set in motion; blur them all I say! Blur them
All this day! Mix the color hue to blend the night for day, bend the moon, I say…
Tomorrow, shame the Sun
Into giving forth all her warming ways.