old midwives can break the silly code

old midwives can break the silly code
of wave’s from here to corporate tail end
filling the air with sallow intent sailing
with what only serendipity can swallow
with sweet water of yet another spring
in its own feeble fashion

it is time to roll vernal stones into place
before he walks again in Haitian fashion
with octopus’ at his clairvoyant feet
just to make sure constant oblivion
in the soft breakthrough of leaves
can shift into a new season

lovers in tin foil hats rattle in winds
that never stood before the court
in contempt of any uprising
the feeding of the wild and the short of it
carries naught but more of that insanity
we name spring again and anew

(The birth – oil on canvas)




Poetry by Bob
Read 334 times
Written on 2016-04-19 at 20:20

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