We've all been waiting for the dawn
Like its all we ever could
Think of it now
Its all written down
Left to night served them right
Till the end leaked out again
You stood there in an empty square
Looking for a friend
The solemn light came and out splintered the darkness
The darkness that never fled from the centre of his heart
As the beams dart low and the scary winds blow
Being letters in a page in a book that you knew
She said i'm a crack in the mirror you see i'm glued too
I'm see through, you too. I looked through
When She shattered the darkness still fled
Still the cracks bled light as the darkness fled
Beams impertubable.Light sang a song they forget
But its still said. Retorts again
Again
Like a broken guitar string the mirror
Gathered together
Under a waning moon
A night where light is clearer. Than the chasing forms of darkness before the dim, huge sun.
Every light. A multitude of shadows. To chase across dark looming matter across the cosmos.
Amidst an orange moon which brightens
the chill of evening... when armada of snow
in a free-fall drapes the lanes as night recoils:
Yet, menfolk gather in a bonfire kindled with calm--
for just one flame in heaven's dome imbues
that a certain assurance can pierce a bitter gust
when darkness falls.
Tender grace endures as a lone star flickers
while the canopy of frost trembles to blanket
old hills like an iced lattice
climbing edge on edge and ridge on ridge:
and though dazzling crowns of peaks etch
iced crystals near westward's reach-
the smoldering embers of hope abide.
From a distance, I watch this mystery,
this interplay of flame and cold where time
mirrors the shift of beauty as a pool of winter
sways with the kiln of man's vigor and his moon,
allowing near capped byways to glimmer
alongside human's virtue that joins a snowy flow.
Contest of Anthony Slausen: Embers and Snowflakes
1/5/2018
Rigid wings settle
jackdaws fibrous feathers fold
Sky smoldering grey
I am interplay; Scottish-Irish
Interchange of loved-up time
With kilt and shamrock soft
And folds of flowing name:
I am he who drew his name in
Unknown place, where O’ and
Fitz, Campbell and McDonald
Loved and played their deadly
Game. I am interplay….
Where for me the distant pipes
And fiddler’s lilt, whisper to my
Ear, uncertain when to come or
Go and spoil my English sweet
Veneer.
The rain-soaked road is deeply black
and shiny, like it's been shellacked,
the stoplights yellow, green and red
reflected, streaks of color bled.
Blindly, cars go flying by,
the beauty lost on jaded eyes,
this scene, it takes my breath away,
the light and water's interplay.
Each edge is sharp, each hue intense,
my heightened senses seem immense,
I wonder if my sight's so clear
because the end is drawing near.
©Danielle White