Darkening of the Light

from “Renditions of Change,” a work in progress



At night a light

exposes one, opens

like a wound to bleed

out into the dark.

I want to stay

hidden within

my secrets, to hold

my desires close

like a small flame.

It’s safe there, stitched

tight between muscle

and bone, waiting

to enkindle a better day.

(March 23, 2019)

Nearby

Rose petals on a ground

Like flowers in a slow conversation’s

eddy, he floats through his circular day.

Nothing’s amiss. Almost, as memory,

the pattern persists; almost as if he

whispers to someone who listens nearby.

Each flower’s petals fall, by troubled turns,

until the air is not enough to hold 

the incoherent world; and, like glass,

it shatters into the composting earth,

oblivious to its own slow demise.

The flower unfolds into its silence;

the swift flutter of bird song in the trees;

the rough caress of dry leaf on dry leaf;

the winter wind’s incessant pulse and pause;

are nothing to his flower’s petal’s fall.

(March 20, 2019)