Psychic Remains
see this happen
one night, a night
as white as a phosphorus star
left her (and all of us)
blind beggars with holes
in our clinking tin cups
an awful bluebeard
a redblooded villain
was to charcoal blame
said this cautionary tale
that stirred in the fireplace
for one full calendar page
the bellows of heartache
keep pumping stale air
in spite of smiling intentions
the blackbirds of hate
perch in somber authority
on an island unseen
the stars change their orbits
before archaeology sets in
some memories lie in sickbed
then crawl off to the graveyard
the blinding light of yesteryear
awaits rebirth in the clouds overhead
Copyright © John Bertin | Year Posted 2017
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