This blog has, as of late, taken a dark turn. I am not a morose person at all; in fact, I am very happy. But the poems come anyway they like. This blog seems like the alter-ego of my other blog: http://writtenforchildren.blogspot.com.
Perhaps this is the Yin to my Yang at the moment.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Sijo
In the dead of night I snow-shoed
through the moonlit trees -- birch, pine, oak --
their trunks prison bars on my path
an owl above asked who's there?
the forest was full of absence
the bright moon full of strange mercy
through the moonlit trees -- birch, pine, oak --
their trunks prison bars on my path
an owl above asked who's there?
the forest was full of absence
the bright moon full of strange mercy
Sunday, February 1, 2009
After the Sky Spoke of a Painting Faintly Remembered
As the day ends
The sky fills with crows
On go my duskdark thoughts
that roost in clusters
like black fruit
On winter’s bare limbs.
Across the city
the weight would make
some break.
The sky fills with crows
On go my duskdark thoughts
that roost in clusters
like black fruit
On winter’s bare limbs.
Across the city
the weight would make
some break.
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