Number 73–
After darkness seeps into dusk
Hear howling in the air
Stumbling behind cadences of delight
Moon blazing covers me
In shrouded silver
Free
Running with werewolves
Heart pounding in the breakaway
Miss you all in the dawn
Never my territory though tried
Faithful until the end
Grabbed me for her swathed self
A muse
Not responsible irresponsible
Reckless in word only
Heart shimmering from joy
Maybe another word for freshness
Maybe this pack
A novelty until
Alternate haunting raises its voice beckoning
As if there is choice
Number 122—for M and T
stand still
not yet done
soundless fly I
again
where roam we
together
as before
not tortured
like Lear
by own flesh
but there
laughing
dancing
wandering
at will
in joy
you and I
Number 6
Tomorrow, tomorrow. Another tomorrow
convinces restlessness to wait.
Secure beliefs around infinity bastardized
in translation.
Temporal failings a sure bet
though when and where appear at will.
Always yearning for that moment
to present as a gift.
No such luck for the ordinary.
Distractions unceasing before, between and after.
Dig deep to find treasure,
certain of its existence though tough the trowel renders.
Submit, submerge and sink into today.
Temptation endorses no contemplation.
Disquiet swirls in acrimonious outcry,
shredding duty so faint desire flourishes.
Pulsating, breathing, diminishing the din,
Out bursts the sistrum.
Sheer grit dances guiltless with Aoide,
entwined in everlasting rhythms.
Waxing, waning, sidestepping inertia.
Ear bent with anticipation,
Ever ready for the guest.
Afraid of sandstorms
in my ears and
in my eyes.
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