Friday, August 24, 2007

res novae

When the residue of sun finally worked through
The coils of your hair, time had once again shifted
Past the countless beats of the hummingbird’s wings

Silence in tears ran into the crevices of your mouth
Then into my name to look at the day as if it were
Merely a memory

Harps of wails grew
In time to lock and hang into the air just perfectly so
Even the trees bent at you to a swell of their own kind

And it was the moment grief rode your back that you
Began to kick at the moon, to curse your own body
To sing backwards and hold yourself still,
Waiting to go

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