letting go

at the end of language
the world bends, turns
a cool stream through
green hills hearing
sees feelings foreign
bird feathers sway down
they dance in the draft
that circles your room
circles upon circles move
touch speech in the twilight
daydreams trap hopeful pleas
your golden slope of neck
this morning light
how it caresses curves
untold illusions of God
and the awful rowing
proves you unprepared
to his harsh eye
harsh standard of home
in the still isolation
resembles hellish solitude
those glints off darkened water
far gems captured in light
as dewdrops dripping
from fanning forest green


One thought on “letting go

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