|
OH LIGHT INSCRUTABLE
by Sean Lause The splendor of my isolate city that I scoop from ice and snow this relentless Winter of 1963 . . . I delve deep beneath the woeful tombs of older Winters, those pale kings. I listen for emanations from below, seeking the icicle’s captured priest, and my own enraptured heart. Chanting fables to the wounded winds, molding solstices into spheres of diamond, I dig deep, deeper still, the snow humped high, higher, to hide my secrets sure. Then lower yet, into the ground of things, where the dark worm keeps cold vigil for the Spring’s blood return. My cave is just wide enough for wonder, with a hole sliced in the top to watch the wandering planets snake eye through the night. Outside howl the white wolves of war, but here no hunger or rage can find me, not the storm's last shattered grand piano, nor blundering giant batter down my door. Oh light inscrutable, with your snow's swift sleight of hand, accept an old man's incantation to this sacrament of dream. |
GOLD PEARLS 4 JESUS by Junior Mclean |
| DREAM
by Richard Carr The carrion crow flew at dusk—forgetting his toothbrush unshaved I toss in bed all night—acting out an inner violence seasick in a rocking ship The ship searches a coastline of exploding breakers for the inlet Lighthouse in ruins a winged figure fans a little fire on the cliff |
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
home | Table of Contents | archive