July 2009 Verse Daily
Web Monthly Feature
They are what fuels the dark, what lies
beyond the sheer curtains.
They are mysterious and hooded
like the woman in your dream, the hollow
before birth, what hides beneath the casket lid.
And this also: what whoops out
from the forest, the claws
of moles in their tunnels, the moon’s
long fingers trailing across cheekbones,
the breath dispersed into ether.
You can see them from the corner of your eye,
hear them hum in the background of everything.
Or, on a summer night, a huge moth,
white-winged, full of grace,
darts across your path — and is gone.
Printed from Cerise Press: http://www.cerisepress.com
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