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Thursday, January 31, 2008

Out There

out there winter has gotten hold
and tightly grips the bark of the tree,
yet the tree still stands guard outside,
an entrenched sentry tarnished,
waiting in the wanton wastes of land,
burnished by a summer's memory,
dried up with deep gashes,
dirt gets in its veins
as it pushes deep in the soil,
searching for the air and water
that lies beneath the sentinel's feet,

out there is me.

out there those birds that have
decided to stay rake for food,
making rudimentary branch beds
on the spare body of that silent tree,
humming tales to constantly remind
how much they were loved by the sun,
or the warm beds on which they once lay,
animal legends of summer's fiery skin ignites
desires to glow plainly in their morning drum,
bitter melodies wake up each day in an
illustration that every thing's wrong,

out there is your memory's song.

out there is the battle of rocks and weeds
that block furrows as life tries to settle
its seeds, last season's leaves fall
leaving their bodies dying for a taste
of a distant heaven’s rain, their rustling
quotes lyrics from an old kindred wind,
reciting bits of creation's song
in its heaving, while the coat of night
buttons up daylight for the sun sleeps too long,
and day's remembrance trembles, blaming it
on the cold tide of a morning-sky's dark sea,

out there is you and me.

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