Gray wings
at the edge of a threadbare blue.
A feathering that attenuates
and denatures.
Beneath somber clouds
stone angels watch
green granite deathbeds
crumble
in darkening dens.
October slips
through our eyes leaving no footsteps.
We are unaware of its coming
until we close those eyes tight,
then under squeezed lids
they glint starbright.
Sea-deep into a restless night
we may apprehend
the faces of the bloodless
as they seek
some last verdant masks to cover
their ice-sculptured features.
Categories:
attenuates, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Poetry is a thirst-quencher
I look forward to my daily cup
It rehydrates my parched spirit
Attenuates the bitter taste of life
Every sip, I savour
As I see poetry everywhere
In everything
In Toronto's tall buildings,
In its small cafés
In its multitudes
In the blue eyes, green,
And brown eyes
In the smiling faces
And the mirthless ones
In doors opening like gaping mouths
Ejecting hapless Torontians
In the big blue lake
In the multiple languages commingling with English
In the churches, mosques and temples
Side by side
In the aroma of ethnic cooking
In the wide highways
Offering endless possibilities
In the ever so brief but warm summers
In the hope written on immigrant's faces
I see poetry
In the priest's homily at Sunday mass
In the voice of a young mother
Scolding her child
I hear poetry
Poetry is a thirst-quencher
Pour me a cup
And I'll forever be your friend
Categories:
attenuates, desire, poetry,
Form: Prose Poetry