By the canefields at dusk.

From the hills coiled in mist dreaming alone 
Between the slipping isolation to touch the world where it beautifuly parts forever
By the canefields at dusk hungry in the foreign twist
Of the silent moon as my only light fluttering the picturesque leaves
And houses with old lakes full with heaps of rain
In darkened winds split by fruits, the mouth of blue rivers lay beside the faint dew
Plagued with divinity in low light—a handful of shadows throughout the honey deserted womb,
That confines the slipping river away
Abandoning the winter with shame as moss eats
The crow above the branch, and I could mistake the reflection
As a region birthed of haunting cigarettes playing in the streets
From the darkened split waters, rocks clumsy in the absent wind of the stream,
Into the mirage upon the sand like persimmon
Into sliding daydreams, the searing frost of poison
Drips upon contact; and I will be poisoned to forget
Behind the secrecy of hollow words,
Tarnished like fate in spoken permission
Seeing the bright, residual dislocation
Of your laboring sins
Into a frayed hope,
Valuing the profit of freedom divorced from 
The shadows detached in pathways,
From solidarity and desire, the trace of winter’s end,
Will I always remember that? I see people
Scowled on their prophecies, and dreams from before
Are never nearly settled in the impression of first want—
With these rhythmic ghosts upon red petals, and in the distance
The beauty of the dew—vanishing in deeper silence—
Terrifying their own voices nightmarish with unease,
On which they suffer from their own desires,
Ceased in the skinned tomb, starvation in the anger of passion,
Transfixed in the wounds of unfurled promises, leaving the lips
That so persist, yet unable contain the thread in this possession
Of now severed salvation.

© 2020 All Rights Reserved.

  12 comments for “By the canefields at dusk.

  1. Gabby
    January 10, 2020 at 10:24 am

    This is absolutely beautiful! Every word is so descriptive and elegantly written. I love the scene you painted, I could almost feel myself in the cold, mist covered atmosphere staring around at the world surrounding me. Beautiful piece 🙂

    Liked by 3 people

  2. January 11, 2020 at 11:59 am

    Very nice, indeed! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. January 15, 2020 at 3:57 pm

    Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:


    Liked by 1 person

    • January 15, 2020 at 4:02 pm

      Thank you! 😀


  4. January 20, 2020 at 5:32 pm

    Excellent consciousness streaming!

    Liked by 1 person

  5. April 2, 2020 at 12:29 am

    Hauntingly beautiful! Excellently crafted!

    Liked by 1 person

  6. blindzanygirl
    April 13, 2020 at 3:22 am

    My God! You’ve done it again Lucy. Excellent. Such atmosphere in this poem. Your choice of words and ohrases is delicious.m i am in awe.

    Liked by 1 person

    • April 13, 2020 at 3:28 am

      Aww, thank you so, so much. I feel so blessed and honoured by your words. ❤️


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