are one and the same;
he’s out in the blood storm
to soak up the rain
and turn them to words,
making poems again.
-
Yes, eagles soar
and eagles kill and die.
But eagles have learnt
to make tears real;
Oh, eagles have learnt to cry.
-
This is our old-but-new love;
It's spent and yet unearned,
Was never sanctioned from above.
-
We woke up to Ghost Weather
on the morning and outside our house;
all around it.
Father went to find God,
Mother will take us a different way -
similar path; different way
all the same.
It's Sunday but we'll all get there
in the end.
Today is dull and grey
and I am the only one in my family
that still likes it this way.
I recall telling my mother how I prayed
for the rain, as we stood out
with the fading sky and she
was astounded. Perhaps slightly
amused.
I think I'll stay home with dad today.
It's raining now and it looks
and feels and sounds and tastes
and smells so nice.
I would try to confine it to
another tired metaphor
but it's just rain.
I just like the way the rain
happens.
happens.
Some things are better left felt
and known with silence-
better yet,
with blindness.
better yet,
with blindness.
-
A HAIKU:
One piece was shattered
The other cried, "Murder!" One
Wept, one broke; both died.
-
The shadows are lovely
and warmer than you think,
but you spend far too much
time in your head, darling.
Come out, come out,
wherever you may be.
Come out, come out to sea.
The shadows are lovely
and warmer than you think,
but you spend far too much
time in your head, darling.
Come out, come out,
wherever you may be.
Come out, come out to sea.
-s.a.