Reciting verse,
each stitch unthreads
Freeing moments,
before unread
The air vibrant,
all seams undone
Tapestry open
—silk re-spun
(The New Room: April, 2021)
Categories:
unthreads, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
The blackened sky revives in blue.
Sky’s mess of gray becomes a hue.
The robin chirps to see the dawn,
Now all await what has been gone.
The sphere most bright, a circle smear
Unfolds straight upward, very near
Until the sun appears in sight.
From edge of nothing creeps the light.
But on this morn came sickly rot,
The black seas rambled from the spot
Where sky had fallen into dust.
The currents smelled of curdled must.
The final fate was clear depicted,
And from a morning unpredicted
Earth's life was taken surprise,
And nevermore the sun would rise.
Horizon cracked, the grasses blood,
Raw reddened scabs of flooded mud.
The living pierced in lung and heart,
Convulsion’s dance, perverted art.
The stifled screams of gasping pain
Are deadened in the viscous rain.
Now stiffened carcasses will lay
And putrefy in crimson clay.
Where magma tongues caress the sod,
Come bright endowments from our God.
The sackcloth moon unthreads and burns
The twisted gods did mankind spurn.
Categories:
unthreads, death, depression, loss, sad,
Form: Rhyme