The evening sky is beautiful but bleak,
purple and red bruises, brutal,
blossoming on the horizon
in fatal, flayed moments of twilight.
There is nothing you or I can do
but wear heavy clothes of sackcloth and wool,
wrapping our palsied souls
in the penance of dry, broken leaves.
It is a fearful thing, I think,
to watch death painted wide
on a canvas stretched by faceless pagans
between bare branches of a failing year.
There is redemption, to be sure,
but its implausible story is written on the pages
of a calendar not yet printed.
In the spring, it will hang on a nail driven hard.
purple and red bruises, brutal,
blossoming on the horizon
in fatal, flayed moments of twilight.
There is nothing you or I can do
but wear heavy clothes of sackcloth and wool,
wrapping our palsied souls
in the penance of dry, broken leaves.
It is a fearful thing, I think,
to watch death painted wide
on a canvas stretched by faceless pagans
between bare branches of a failing year.
There is redemption, to be sure,
but its implausible story is written on the pages
of a calendar not yet printed.
In the spring, it will hang on a nail driven hard.
(At the risk of being redundant, Chapter and Verse will remain open even though I created Publexicon. By the way, everyone’s link on Chapter and Verse is intact and will remain so, plus I have spread a little “link juice love” by linking everyone on Publexicon as well. If I have forgotten anyone, or if the links don’t work, don’t be shy or hesitate to tell me about it.)
Pic: Copyright, William Hammett, 2007
16 comments:
Very Lovely. I'll link this to my October Halloween links.
Wonderful photograph and ode Billy :D
great poem - love it.
charles, miladysa, and diane--thanks so much!
billy, this is superb :D
wonderful work, as always. :)
Sure do like that, Billy. I feel at once like a Halloween beggar and an awestruck pagan observing the forces of nature transforming my warm world into a dark and indifferent one.
laughingwolf, thanks!!!
andrew, thanks for stopping by!
Sandy, I feel that dark sunset inside my soul every year in late fall. Thankfully, it passes :)
memento mori,,,it's not for the faint hearted
qualcosa, thanks for stopping by. And you're right.
beautiful... "written on the pages of a calendar not yet printed..." You have such a gift.
aw shucks, thank ya, raven! You're too kind!
Lovely fluid poetry. As always.
Wow, Billy. That last stanza--and the final line, in particular--pierces the night sky.
I have missed reading your poems so--they really do wrap themselves around me.
Jo, thanks so much. Considering your own superb poetry, such comments always are highly valued.
Sarah, glad you liked it. That's a great comment about piercing the night sky. Thanks !!!!!!
I love that picture! The sky broken. Or maybe the sky about to touch with the fingers of trees. And I shivered at the poetic vision.
Thank you for the link on Publexicon! I've added a link on The Clarity of Night.
Post a Comment