September 2010
1 post
SECOND SKIN
The poem
dwells in the unexpected
music a flock
of egrets caught
like an uncertain pause
in the river’s
throat your voice
as it falters on the volatile
notes the crescendo
of crickets endlessly weaving
the night blanket pockmarked
by odysseys by scars
of stars the poem is a name-
less thief stealing
a few droplets of night only
to be pecked open
in a cacophony
of crows that...