Things Worth Noting

Fred

why then does the silence gouge?

the heft of it, the weight,

the seething light, the tearing absence.

there are those who have lived and died on less than this.

the coats hung like hammers in the closet,

the floors polished to a sheen like a heirloom weapon

at once sterile and ancient, oiled and mouldering;

these are both instruments and reasons.

brass speaks to gunmetal and pewter,

more of a whisper than a shout, telling the old fables;

the stillborn lion, the graying fledging,

the habits and consequence of our rising and falling.

the twists, the shock, the pirouette and feint and shimmer

they are all there, familiar as leather

I cannot help but think that this will not fade,

that this is what is true, that I can't help but bow my head

and follow along with a finger, underline a section

or occasionally fold back a page, but remain as helpless

as some downed animal, panting and choking on dust,

nostrils flaring and eyes shimmering.

Labels: Fred

12/19/2008 07:19:00 PM

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