This November bonfire season brings thoughts of fire, sparks, storms, grief and what it means to be free. Whatever that means to you, I hope you find the love song in the dark.
Ashes (Or a covert love song)
The evening settles on the mantle sky Like a long ago argument Corpse mauve Dead load The heft of day carried by the dusk. You carry your work hearse on your shoulder Down streets that stalk you Like a stranger Sham danger To the anaesthetic of your hearth. And the question keeps speaking Voicing its insistent truth Do not pause to let it rise Keep it tight inside The coffin of your dreams. Oh do not ask What is it? Do not admit the light Carry on The ordained song Embalm this ordered plight. The phoenix lives on hope and imagination He sleeps on fears and the ash of dreams Joy’s glint Spark’s flint sits beneath the grind with novel wings Do not feed him with gifts of delight Do not speak to him of dreams Freedom shifts Kindness lifts Shackle him among the ashes With all the lies.
Leave a Reply