Monday, February 16, 2009

Moody poems

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:
Perhaps this is the Yin to my Yang at the moment.


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

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.