from "The Hidden Well"


wreck

spiders hang frozen
from the eaves' corner
like a medallion from Moira's neck.

along branches
time yawns,
stretching bored its seconds
as if their gluey marrow could replace
chlorophyll.

fall would leave
but winter has no yen for reigning,
and earth feels orphaned,
rejected.

crows' caws color the heights
like some burst of vulgar fireworks
squirted against the lead autumn sky.

the rest is silence...




Poetry by Lilly Negoi
Read 506 times
Written on 2012-12-04 at 09:13

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countryfog
Those few weeks when fall seems reluctant to leave and winter not yet ready to arrive . . . you've captured the mood of that transition, the stumbling passage, with your usual evocative images and originality of your response to and revelation of them. One comes to the last line hoping the silence will not be yours.
2012-12-04