Nor'easter

Evening hymns fall soft like days of dandelions

and cool rain thru sunlight

Days of distinct sadness and glory-fires smoking me from palm to palm.

My silver cage grows thin and wobbles like the universe

and I remember my first days under the angelic cobalt

cascading like snowfall down from unforgettable summits.



As human mourning of beauty trembles under my skin

the heart is drawn upwards and the tides of my warm blood

compass past another equinox, a dark planet inhales my likeness

and sets my dead hand back to the painting,

abandoning the slow detours of the Night,

the bright green flashings of the sun make my movements bolder than

burgundy wine or orange dream-elixir.



The cages fall away and we walk out of ourselves and into each other,

singing the only song we know,

drowning in the bright poetics of

nebulous

storms.