it seems
keeps poking itself
into morning
or is it night
as every voice speaks
in the past tense
though it may
be the present
a glassy gulf of thailand heat wave
gathers water
drops
find secluded orchid patches
to breathe
but i’m afraid of nodding off
& missing sunset
snow crust creaks at zero degrees f
ski tracks weave minnesota poplar
pine & peat bogs
perfect shadows
mostly cloudless blue
a small strong sun
chases storm clouds east
the voices only have faces
mouths that move
but no sound
i’m thinking these must be
perfect love songs
no one can hear
least not me
lips shaped full
wet
smooth dark
hot red
silence
--- e b bortz
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2 comments:
This ending reminds me of a Katie Daley poetry line in that poem of hers she read Sunday - something about looking into "my dark red emptiness..."
I keep coming back to your page hoping you'll post more poems.
thank you for reading it.
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