January Vow*
by rain70
Posted to Poetry on 2003-04-02 06:33:00
The mouths’ urging, if some action
Wont be repulsed. The king in
Front of himself counts confounded
Stars. Who and what could
Have thought the gazes picked
Bare could hold them so perfect.
Move to translate snow into
Early climbing of lament. A
Bit of chin and a slice of
Long hair, all the jealous poison
In secret strangely soft. Which
In selection stands posed? A cathederal
In dream, a bit of possession? Your heart
Stands open and the shy cup
Spans its life in a way it should
Have been passed, like a disciple
And all the work behind him.
______________________
*from “Youngbones(Day after Yesterday)”
-jan.’03