Obsidian’s Edge 24


12 AM

Night’s incoming waves,
flickering candles,
yellow flames,
altar-white table cloth
with its cross of flowers;

an ebb tide dangling its flotsam
at the end of a long white string.

Mala madre,
the spider plant,
an evil mother
her unwanted children.


I clasp your hand in a confessional of dust:
your fingers knit themselves with mine.

Each wrinkle
on your hand
as fine as
a silk spun web.




I tapped
with ardent spoon
on the graceless grapefruit’s
golden skull.

When we awake
I will boil us
each an egg.

Squeezed orange:
as warm as
this fierce embrace,
as sweet as

silent bird:
midnight branch.



6 thoughts on “Obsidian’s Edge 24

    • Thanks, Tanya. This is the last of the poems in this specific collection. Now I am wondering what to do. I am still working on Bistro and can post regularly from there. The the two companion pieces to Obsidian’s Edge both need revision, and I could go there … or else I could work with the two poetry books that I am revising at present … mainly unpublished work … So …The other possibility is to attach the dream sequence (prose) that I wrote for the midnight to 6:00 am session that I needed to complete the day. maybe I’ll do that … just thinking in print here … yet another possibility is to run through the Selected Poems on which I am also currently working … I am spoiled for choice … and I don’t know which way to go with this, not as yet.


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