Monday, December 6, 2010

Down Season Redux

The slate gray skies are cold and hard this morning
Sullen clouds go scudding 'cross the bleak tableau
Obscuring my view of you
The weeping rain echoes my sentiments
And I take another sip of this poison I alone have brewed

I drink this down season to its dregs
And stare into the corpse-cold distance
I lie in the sodden grass lie an abandoned mausoleum
And bleat my fear and sorrow
Where are you? Where are you? I call
Won't you wrap your arms around me?
Or have I crucified them
Again?

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