Image courtesy of SueAnn friend of Brian Miller Hosting Poetics today
Now we’re aged sail ribs and tailbones,
our sucker rods dried, split with time.
Wind whistles us drained desert stones
spinning dizzy in retooled rhymes.
Yellow shadows once slipped through grass;
lying hidden, cicada waves
told tales of days when we’d surpass
cliff high flats and the deep sky’s blades.
Curved highways led to city streets.
Fast steps formed glass and metal tunes.
Rain skies erased the sun in sheets
then rusted heart-forged clever runes.
Unique melodies milled by wind,
Half-tones decay before our end.
(c) Gay Reiser Cannon * 11/3/2012 * All Rights Reserved
When moon’s a silent silver slivered rill,
then autumn sneaks by dark upon the stair
where night revolves yet all the stars stand still.
The sweet gum flames, its redness gladly spilled
across the spiderwebs spun vast, now bare
with moon a silent silver slivered rill.
The evening casts a spiky stirring chill;
when trees outline themselves as ghosts out where
the night revolves yet all the stars stand still.
Those silhouettes that scared the birds now spill
themselves on hedges full of purple snares;
when moon’s a silent silver slivered rill.
My heart beats slower, still I feel the thrill
of bonfire smoke and shows at county fairs
when earth revolves, yet all the stars stand still.
As midnight strikes I note the rising hill
that looms in darkness at that junction where
the moon’s a silent silver slivered rill
when earth revolves yet all the stars stand still.
© Gay Reiser Cannon * 9/9/2012 * All Rights Reserved