Wept in the death of Gods,

darker still in the gathering ocean,

with only tears that fall to them,

in the red hyssop of the frost

inclined to the penetralium of desire,

as the ocean slips no fate by

its sea song to kill

empty, the abscission of leaf

falls like glass

we could not fall together

as we once had, the very shock

of an ocean like glass

as I fall and drown.

Mirrors felled in cyclorama view

that shallows in the limbs

and land of the sea,

dying

enveloping tessellation

in the horizon’s tongue and depression of autumn

dying

offered

to the haze of snapped bone and tree sap, (you are a worm),

thawing in syrup. My father with columns of stone,

stayed quiet under the sea;

I grew in the orange blooms

soaking in the maples

for as I did not sleep, I did dream of words;

Dissociation of the earth

I fell off the earth

to escape.

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Reposted for dVerse’s open link night.

Categories: Poetry, Prose

Tags: Death, Family, Free-Verse, Grief, Literature, Non-Fiction, Poetry, Prose, Prose-Poetry, Writing