In the unscrubbed mirror: A pond in Cesvaine

A tree
Jammed helpless
Into soft shoreline watches,
All aflail,
Untethered lilies,
Like unmoored souls
Floating into wilderness.

Wisps of anguish
All but unremembered.

Along about now

Along about now,
A particular group of photons,
Some 2oo million light years away,
Is heading in our direction.

They’re out there.

At the same time,
A delegation is leaving my face,
Bound for cosmic intersection.

After all the debates have passed,
Long after the poor old Earth
Has been wrung free of its
Infection of life

Two photons,
Their memories wiped clean
Will pass in the distant night
As unaware of our anguish
As we are of their fate

Posted on May 5, 2013 by Mikels Skele

I’m afraid my multitudes
Have become fractious
No longer content to simply
Contradict myself
I fly off the handle
At the slightest whim

Come tell me, old man
What great love-burst
Straightened your back
In your days of reckoning?

How did you feel when those
Crusted and cracked hands you held
In the stifling wards of Washington
Ceased finally to stir?

The sweet cleansing heat
Of salty tears and sweat
How you must have howled!
How the moon must have shuddered
To hear it!

In twilights gone
Truth fades like some
Antique paint, unsuited
To the impatient light
We deal with nowadays.

Still, a window
Is a window.

I remember
Your summer dress
Billowing fragrances
Of untold yearning
Long into the night

These flowers, too,
Have long since passed.