Thursday, October 22, 2009

birds

the birds
have fallen
silent
I cannot tell
the time of day

the shadows
playing by
my bedside bemoan
the passing
of May

you look
at me pallid
and shrunken
from across
your pillow

never thought
these curtains
could ever turn
this rotten
this yellow

the garden lies
unkempt
the fountain, dry
the gates rust
the leaves sigh

my breath heaves
gazing out the window
the sky is ashen
like your urn is
ashen, too

i look
at you pallid
and shrunken
from across
my pillow

you’re always silent
as the birds are silent
these days
tenderly, unflinchingly
your eyes held me lovingly

yes, yes
it is time