Wednesday, September 8, 2010

PAD prompt "future" Wed.Sept.8.10

And There Were No Poets to Speak Of

The fourth month and no moisture from the farthest star
Male children are disguised – tissue, tissue, tissue
Winged ones fly too close to the ground cast no shadows
Last night was it – I have little memory – time is an unreliable
Element and sifts through me like flaking blood – did you
Lay with me or was that but a dream-state; quick what did I do
With the babies I thought I hid the babies; wait there was only
One and she was expendable and tossed from the last sunflower
The scent of that bloom filled the entire atmosphere
With tears unshed but the baby – no weeping for her
You remember things but stay silent so who can tell if you
Are wise or merely mute – how frightened I am always, are you

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