House of Dreams 1-3 /6

“Though lovers be lost, love shall not;
and Death shall have no Dominion.”
Dylan Thomas 

 House of Dreams 1-3 /6

1

The clematis unfolds
bruised purple on the porch.

Jazz piano:
beneath the black
and white hammers
of ivory keys,
old wounds crack open.

A flight of feathered notes:
this dead heart
sacrificed on the lawn.

I wash fresh stains
from my fingers
with the garden hose.

2

The evening stretches out
a shadow hand.

I feel my heart
squeezed like an orange
by long, dark fingers.

Somewhere,
the white throat
trills its guillotine
of vertical notes.

I flap my hands in the air.

They float there,
white butterflies,
amputated
in sunlight’s
net.

3

The light fails fast,
I hold up shorn stumps
flowers for the night
wind to heal.

The pale magnolia
bleeds into summer.

White petals
melt on the lawn:
early snow.

Sparrow sings
an afterlife
built of spring
branches.

 

 

11 thoughts on “House of Dreams 1-3 /6

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