Micropoetry 7-14-2020

down by the river’s end
when the day begins
I wait in a narrow alcove
for the water to flow out again

in the embers
of our mutual touch
until we’re grounded
beneath the fading heat
and we lie there, still,
in the absence of time
until once more we meet

filled with night
until the wine has seared
through the veins
and the absence of light
is the only sight

flitting within the lines
that define the moments
we fill our lives between

messengers from God
who sail from the parts
where the veins of eternity
will lead to a man’s
forever-wandering heart

glued to fate
as it drips into the corners
to fill our senses

in that moment
where the appropriate gesture
comes too late to pass

among the ruins
where we forge the bricks
that lay the beginning
of the cycle next to come

grain by grain
we pull new life
from the bowels
of the soul’s decay


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