Sensitive now to sunlight you moon-bathe
most nights on the children’s trampoline.
Cold air soothing med-reddened skin
which blisters in intricate arrangements,
Like snow flakes you say, only more angry.
Unable to sleep this night I join you.
Together we graze a sky cloud-ploughed
by premature Autumn wind, and spy
the splendour of stars. Such sprinkled beauty
you say. like glitter on a blackboard.Seizing my chance to impress. I tell you
it is indeed beautiful but quite sad too.
That we are not witnessing life but
the aching flicker of death-
a final white wail through millennia.
And how terrible it is to be received
and admired when there is nothing of yourself.
.
And then I sense it. The lick of your bottom lip,
the slight jolt of hand, And I know I have harmed
you. Brought to surface the lingering sickness.
I whisper warm-breath apologies And you accept them,
telling me We are stars, that love is our white-wail
In an otherwise dead-dark world and it shall outlive
this moment and there is nothing terrible in that.
most nights on the children’s trampoline.
Cold air soothing med-reddened skin
which blisters in intricate arrangements,
Like snow flakes you say, only more angry.
Unable to sleep this night I join you.
Together we graze a sky cloud-ploughed
by premature Autumn wind, and spy
the splendour of stars. Such sprinkled beauty
you say. like glitter on a blackboard.Seizing my chance to impress. I tell you
it is indeed beautiful but quite sad too.
That we are not witnessing life but
the aching flicker of death-
a final white wail through millennia.
And how terrible it is to be received
and admired when there is nothing of yourself.
.
And then I sense it. The lick of your bottom lip,
the slight jolt of hand, And I know I have harmed
you. Brought to surface the lingering sickness.
I whisper warm-breath apologies And you accept them,
telling me We are stars, that love is our white-wail
In an otherwise dead-dark world and it shall outlive
this moment and there is nothing terrible in that.
Rusty Truck 