Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Dark December



There's a house
on the fractured
horizon.

A light is on
in the night,
one light.

Much is perfect,
even the chair,
I told them.

I will prove it,
when we get there,
I told them.

(All memories are manufactured.)

They needed to know.

Louring clouds: slate, snow,
char, crow,
gray mustard, dark
December.

Escape the brazen
bronze bazar. Enter
reedy hut, lower
the drape.