To The River's End

aDarkerMind

to the river's end

dust-bowl and hidden foul a soft retreat.

no grain of time to wrap one finger-length,

still shapes two servant's more on bended knoll;

when here is all but nothing left on edge,

masters wind and silence through a gift of jaw,

cloud-raw as white as flesh.

chanting flock's of caged birds

to blow away the dead-worm-bait,

hook to love to lips the hanging kiss,

once skull of man now horoscope

a needle to the stars in a heavens cell,

calm unrest with beast of rocks

that grope and swell all inches of the sun;

to the world that cannot die,

that cannot screen it's eyes from given death.

in this beginning came the lover's sleep.

dreaming scars but ripples in a cold night air.

forget-me-not for sinners unforgiven plague,

vengence comes as air to hill,

to spill it's might on the idle bone

buried bald with healing hand and cherry composite;

to the world of ends;

the sleeping eyes burning bright it's tears,

older than the brave man's ears

running straight this bending year,

to the spine that floats to the rivers end;

the curse of Spring.

in time to ask of who, of why; of when;

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Get a free collection of Classic Poetry and subscribe to My Poetic Side ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors Weekly news

Comments1

  • Lorenz

    We share the talent of extracting the atomic consistency of the word !
    ''who of why and when ; who's who ! "

    • aDarkerMind

      indeed we do;
      and long may we continue;



    To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.