orgami's Diaryland Diary

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epicure

crystalline etch
the cold echos

I gather in sleep
feeling winters
reach

the dirty light
standing like water
in the dreams
crying in the shower
while spring rains
thunder up against
the glass

we picked leaks and made
smokers from tomato tin
cans and dried moss
to keep the blackflies down

our hearts were in it then
exciting as the storms from
the lake

wake to coffee in the urn
the red light sparkling
like an ember
dad sitting at his table
in his pants and slippers
the burn scars on his back
like a pink constellation
of mystery

he told me and I just as soon
forgot that existance he
shared

sitting now in winter
remembering and going to bed
to my own new stories
forming like a jewel
in the dark reach of a dream

12:32 a.m. - 2013-01-23

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